Broken Mirror
by LittleChicago
Summary: Harry gets a phone call, post Turn Coat... and sets off on a rescue mission.
1. Chapter 1

Broken Mirror

I have travelled a lot of different ways. By car, by foot. Lots of cabs, a few trains. A couple planes, big enough I could sit well away from the engines. I even rode a helicopter once. It was fun until I had to be lowered out on a winch. A little scary, but at least I was still attached to the helicopter.

You see, I have never, until this moment, been skydiving.

Falling through the air at a little over a million miles an hour is exhilarating, I'll give you that. I just don't get why anyone would willing throw themselves out of a perfectly good plane, which is capable of flying, and replace it with tablecloth stuffed in a backpack, which is not.

Which is probably why I didn't. Kincaid had to push me. As I fell, I let out a battle cry that sounded suspiciously like a little girl's scream, though using words no child should even know. Kincaid couldn't hear me; I could barely hear myself. The line connected to the plane from my parachute caught, and the oh-so-thin piece of fabric I'd just entrusted my life to ballooned out above me. With my blind panic easing back to barely controlled terror, and my full-on tremors reduced to violent shakes, I tried to remember what Kincaid had told me above how to control the flimsy kite I was strapped to.

Of course, my memory hadn't quite caught up with me, (much like I hadn't caught up to my stomach,) and it skipped back a little far. Two days, to be precise.

*****

I was sitting in my office. I like sitting my office. It makes me feel like I'm doing something, really contributing to the economy. In truth, I was avoiding responsibility.

My door says Harry Dresden – Wizard. Yeah, wizard. As in, 'wizened.' I can use honest-to-goodness magic, but more than that, I'm supposed to be smart and capable. But somehow I always manage to get people I know hurt. Or worse.

My friend Michael got shot. My friend Kim was torn apart by a loup-garou a few years back. Karrin Murphy, who in many ways is my best friend, (and in other ways, might be more than that – maybe… I don't know,) has been injured more times than I care to count on my watch. And my brother had just lost his soul.

Hell's bells, not literally. It was still in there, somewhere. But his desire to keep it, his humanity, was gone. Thomas was a vampire of the White Court. His inner demon, his Hunger, fed on human emotion, specifically lust. Now, Thomas is the type of guy who can make crawling out of barn while covered in cow dung the sexiest thing in the world (don't ask how I know, just don't). But until recently, he'd always exercised self-control. He'd only killed one person with his hunger, the very first time he fed, when his father had manipulated him into it. But recently, he'd been tortured to the brink of death and forced to feed, over and over, killing several women in the process.

And he didn't care. What ever humanity he'd had, whatever control our mother had instilled in him, was gone. There had to be a way to give it back to him, but none of my brainstorming had come up with anything.

I thought magic might help, but I had no idea where to start (and I studied vampires in great detail a few years ago.) When speaking with Murphy about it, she pointed out the obvious; physically, Thomas hadn't changed, it was just his attitude. I realised Thomas' problem was psychological.

Murph told me she'd be out of town for a few days, so I figured I'd have time to read up on the wonderful world of the human mind. So, I'd gone to the public library, and got several really thick books with really long titles designed for skulls less thick than mine. The library was closer to my office than my house, so I went there and sat down. I was reading one of those books, my head full of words I couldn't fully understand, when I got a call.

"Harry Dresden," I said, still trying to sound out a sentence in my head.

A gruff voice answered, "Meet me in the diner across the street in five minutes."

"Wha-?" I got out. The phone went dead. The brief call had the effect of clearing my mind. Demands and threats both do that to me. This had been one of the former, but it carried the latter within it. I stared at the phone for a minute, replaying the call in my mind. I knew the voice, of course.

I made up my mind pretty quickly. It's easy to do when you know the voice on the other end of the phone is a professional killer. I put down the phone and the book, crossed the room and threw on my leather duster. I grabbed my staff from beside the coat rack, and locked the door on my way out. I took the stairs (the elevator had just started working again, and I didn't want to jinx it – literally) and got into the diner with 30 seconds to spare.

Kincaid was waiting for me at a table he had claimed in the corner farthest from the door. He was easy to spot. He looked about 40, though I knew he was at least 10 times that, with hair the colour of a lion's coat. His eyes were also those of an animal, constantly shifting and checking, but relaxed about it, and always coming back to rest on me. His clothes defined business casual – grey slacks and matching sport coat, over a dark shirt. A leather bomber, about the same colour and consistency as my duster, hung on a hook on the wall beside him. He looked relaxed, but so did most people I knew right before they kicked someone's ass.

I walked over. "Kincaid. You're looking well. Your oh-so-polite call implied this was urgent."

Just then, a waitress appeared, glass in hand. "Coke for someone?"

I looked at her. Looked at Kincaid. He raised an eyebrow. "Thanks," I said, and took the glass. I leaned my staff against the wall.

"I took the liberty," he said, and waved me into a chair. I took a gulp and a seat.

"Alright. I'm intrigued. You're not usually this nice to me."

"No harm in being polite, Dresden. Particularly to someone you respect." I caught the tone of his voice, and realised his right hand was under the table.

"There's a gun pointed at me right now, isn't there?" I asked, casually.

"Yeah," he said, also casually, "but only one, 'cause we're friends."

"Friends? Never thought I'd hear that out of you. What's this about?"

He studied me for a moment. Then he leaned forward, and slid a small handgun into a shoulder rig, eyes never leaving me. He stared at my nose, of course. Neither of us wanted to trigger a soulgaze. "Do you remember what you said when you hired me a few years back? To clean out that vampire scourge?"

"I believe it was something along the lines of, 'Nothing says flattery like a gun to the head.'"

He smiled, tight and short. "After, when I told you my price."

"You mean after I asked for a coupon? I think I said – " I stopped. I leaned in, too. "I said I would owe you one. Are you cashing in?"

"I came to you because this is partly personal."

"I don't want to know about your jock itch – wait." I looked at his face again. I saw something I had never seen on him before – the rough beginnings of a beard. He was worried and distracted. "This is about Ivy, isn't it?"

He leaned back again. That was all the answer I needed. For Kincaid to be this restless, something had to be gnawing at him. And Ivy was his only weak spot. Believe me - his _only_ weak spot. I've looked.

Ivy is short for Archive. I gave her the name. She has a thousand or so generations worth of memories, passed down from her mother, and her mother before her, etc., and is aware of everything that has ever been written down, by any hand on Earth. Pretty heavy for a sweet-natured 16-year-old girl. She's a guardian of knowledge. Kincaid had been her bodyguard for her entire life, and even if he'd never admit it, he loved her like a daughter. For Kincaid, this was as much personal as it was about professional pride.

The big brother/Victorian gentleman/Neanderthal in me awoke. I hate it when bad things happen to women, and I hate it worse when bad things happen to kids. Ivy was both, 1000 generations of memories or not.

I leaned back, too, serious. I also cared about Ivy. Stars and stones, so did my cat. "I thought you were the best, Kincaid. What happened?"

"I took a job last week." That was code for, '_I killed someone last week.'_ "She was left with some sub-contractors." Meaning, _'I got some other mercenaries to baby sit.'_ "And when I went to retrieve her, she was gone and they were dead." Ah - a clever way of saying, _'She was gone and they were dead.'_

My voice was tight as I answered. "You know who did it?"

He nodded, but put a finger to his lips and glanced left and right. _The walls have ears._

I nodded, knowing a more complete explanation would follow. "I'm in. When?" I asked.

He allowed himself a tiny, little smile. "Tomorrow morning. Before sunrise."

"Local?"

"Couple days' travel."

"Other hands?"

"One more. You want to drag that apprentice of yours along, it might not hurt, either."

"Anything else?"

"Here," he said, and pulled an envelope out of his inner coat. "Some details. Read it at home." He put it flat on the table along with a 10-spot, and stood. He took his bomber off the rack.

"Nice jacket," I said, finishing my Coke.

"What can I say? You're an inspiration, Dresden." He left. I sucked on some ice for a minute, then got up myself and headed for my car. I wasn't going to get anymore psycho-babble reading done today, as the thought of Ivy in trouble had pushed everything else from my mind. I got into the _Blue Beetle_ – a misnomer now more than ever, as Mike, my mechanic, now tells me he's had to start improvising parts from across the automotive spectrum to keep it running, so not only is it a rainbow of colours, but also not entirely a Volkswagen – and headed home, lost in thought.

Kincaid didn't recruit lightly. I'd once seen him take apart a half-dozen Red Court vampires without breaking stride – or missing a shot, all by himself. He wasn't entirely human. He didn't scare easily, and he didn't leave things to chance. Whoever – or, I thought with a sigh, _what_ever – had taken Ivy, this wasn't going to be a cakewalk.

I pulled into my driveway. I live in the basement of a large, old boarding house. I don't see the other residents much, except when I catch a glimpse of them yanking their curtains shut. Can't really blame them. Lots of bad things have happened to my house, and thus, the people in it. I keep protective wards up and freshen them about once a month, but the thing about bad guys is they don't always respect things like wards, or thresholds, or windows or walls. Jerks.

I checked the mail, then went down my stairs, jingling my keys as I went. As I got to the door, one hand against it to disable the wards, and one inserting a key and turning the knob, I was suddenly pummelled in the legs by a small, furry boulder. Mister, my 30+ pound short-tailed tabby, greeted me the same way everyday. "What are you so happy about?" I asked him as the door opened. "Get up to some good carousing? Raise some rabbles? Of course you did." Mister hit me one last time with his head, then assumed his usual place of honour on a book shelf, forgetting all about me.

Meanwhile, Mouse, my dog-shaped personal earth-mover, greeted me far more affectionately. I barely had to bend to pet his ears, and I'm six and a half feet tall. "Come on, big guy. You can have a trip to the backyard, then I have some phone calls to make." I pulled the envelope Kincaid had given me out of my pocket as Mouse led me outside. "And some reading to do."

Twenty minutes later, all calls of nature (and a few of the artificial kind) having been answered, I sat down and opened Kincaid's envelope. Three things came out. There were two train tickets, to Denver, covered in computer type. There wasn't a whole lot on the single other sheet of paper inside. A name, Japanese by the sound: Yamohito Hai. And there were two other words: Jade Court.

I climbed down the rickety ladder into my lab, in the sub-basement. With a gesture, and the quiet words, "Flickum bickus," I lit a half-dozen candles. "Bob," I said, looking at an ancient human skull on a shelf, "wake up."

One of the eye sockets in the skull turned orange, then the other, as though they were really eyes, slowly opening. The jaw stretched open, and a huge yawning sound came out. The skull then bounced to face me as I sat down with a pad and pencil. "Heya, Harry," Bob the skull said. "I hope this is important. I was having a great dream about Trixie Vix – "

"Don't give me any details, Bob. The last time you described a 'skull-job' I thought I would throw up."

"That would have been absolutely disgusting," Bob said, with far too much cheer.

I shook my head. "I need to know everything you can tell me about the Jade Court of vampires."

If Bob had eyebrows, I'm sure they would have shot up. "Wow. Been a while since I heard that one. What's up?" I described my day so far. "Huh. You say she's 16 now?"

"Bob!"

"Right, Jade Court! Here goes." Bob cleared his throat, which was impressive for someone without a tongue… or a throat. "Jade Court vampires are much like White Court vampires in many respects."

"Such as?"

"Pretty darn attractive, for one thing. Mostly Asian, too. Hot. Also, manipulative. Secretive. Maybe the most secretive of the courts. And very formal. Always stand on ceremony, no matter what's going on."

"Okay. How are they different?"

"Diet, mostly. Black Court eat flesh, Red Court eat blood, White Court eat emotions, and Jade Court eat memories."

"Memories?"

"Your short-term would be very tasty, Boss."

I was confused. "How… how do they eat memories, Bob?"

The orange orbs rolled in their sockets. "Same as Whites. They get close to their victim, and just kind of siphon them off, psychically. The process is mostly painless as I understand it. I have heard of them being sought out by some people, hoping to be rid of a painful memory, but of course, if they feed too much, the person is left a blank slate, with no skills or sense of identity. And of course, they can read the memory before they eat it."

"They… enter and ruin people's minds," I said. For the first time in my life, I was actually aghast.

"Technically, they _empty_ the minds, not ruin them."

"That's…" I tried to imagine having my whole sense of self ripped away. Everything I'd ever done, ever seen, every friend I had… every friend I'd lost, every horrible image burned into my mind. I suppose I could see the appeal for some people, getting rid of pain…

No. My pain was part of who I was. Losing it would be a relief, but also wouldn't allow me to be me. And dammit, I like me. Mostly.

"That's horrible. It's worse than killing a person. It's… it's rape of the mind."

"No argument," Bob said, for once completely serious. "As a spirit of knowledge, I'm nothing _but_ memories. Meeting one of them would end me, sure as sunlight. Oh, speaking of which, they can go about in daylight. However, they are the source of the 'no-reflection' legend."

"They can't be seen in a mirror?"

"Or any reflective surface. It's a weird sort of permanent veil. Helps them stay secret. Hard to see unless you're looking right at them, or they want to be seen."

My mind started working with that. "Weaknesses?"

"Again, similar to the White Court. Their bodies are essentially human. They can take massive trauma and recover, but they need time. They burn and squish real good, but no court-specific weaknesses."

"Anything else I should be aware of?"

"There's not much else to tell. They keep their number low, maybe less than 100 world-wide. They rarely gather in numbers. They only concentrate in Asia, but they spread out so to keep from attracting attention. Oh, and they can eat Sight memories, too."

That shocked me. "I thought nothing could remove a memory from a wizard's Sight."

"Oh, yeah, sure, nothing. Except a Jade Court vampire."

I thought about that. There were a few things burned into my Sight I wouldn't mind getting rid of. Or at least letting fade.

"Oh, and Harry? Don't go writing Ivy a note, like you did last time to let her know you were coming. Jades can eat her memories, though since they're not really hers, they should grow back. But they can still read them."

No wonder Kincaid had written so little down. "Thanks Bob," I said, heading back upstairs. I extinguished the candles with a word. "By the way, your Fredrick's of Hollywood catalogue came today." I took it out of my back pocket and tossed it in his general direction. It stopped in midair and fluttered to Bob's shelf, vanishing in the darkness.

"Oh, this wasn't supposed to be out until next week! Thanks Boss!" I closed the trap door over the sub-basement, drowning out his happy cries.

There was a knock on the door as I threw the rug back over the trapdoor. "Who's there?" I called through it.

"Just me."

"Come on in," I said.

The door opened, and a tall, blonde girl with far too many piercings entered. She was wearing heavy hiking boots, a pair of jeans with the knees missing, and a shirt that didn't leave enough to the imagination. She also wore a medallion I'd given her to get through my wards, one of only four I'd made. My own jeans and flannel get-up left me feeling over dressed. Over her shoulder was a good-sized backpack, fairly overflowing with various nick-knacks. "Hi, Harry," Molly said, excitement in her voice.

"Greetings, Grasshopper. You come with… much more than I thought you would." Molly had been my apprentice for a few years now. I'd been saddled with the duty after I volunteered. It was either that or let her be executed for violating the Third Law of Magic – Thou Shalt Not Invade the Mind of Another. Yeah, capital letters. The White Council of Wizards – the secretive governing body for all mortal magic-users – only had seven Laws, and they all started with 'Thou Shalt Not." And they all ended with 'under punishment of death.' Admittedly, she did it before she realised she was working magic, and she was just trying to help a couple friends, in that arrogant, teenager-y way. That, plus me speaking up was the only thing that kept her alive that day.

"Mom kind of insisted. Clothes, foci, survival gear, etc."

"She wasn't mad? You made it clear to her that I didn't demand you come along, right?" Charity Carpenter was best described as a lioness when it came to her family, but without all the kind, calm, fuzziness one associates with vicious hunters. We'd been getting along better of late, but she still scared me a little. "She's not outside, is she?"

"I took the bus. And are you kidding? I was in the second you said Ivy was in trouble. She's a great kid. The only thing they objected to was me spending the night here. Then I reminded them I'm an adult, and you and I have a very professional relationship." I rolled my eyes and she put the bag down. "Dad offered to come along, but Mom absolutely forbid it." I winced. Michael Carpenter's gunshot injury had happened the last time we'd gone on a rescue mission for Ivy. In spite of that, he'd do it again in a heartbeat. I'd recently learned from a higher authority that Michael getting shot was the more pleasant of two outcomes that night might have held, but as with Thomas, while I may not have done the damage myself, I still felt guilty.

"He wouldn't be your dad if he didn't."

She nodded. "So, what's the plan?"

"We're leaving early, aiming for 5:30. Train leaves at 6:15. Butters is watching the boys – " I gestured to Mouse and Mister, " – I called him right after you. And we have some work to do before hitting the hay."

"Whatever you say, Teach."

"Have a seat, first. I'll fill you in on the details. Then we have a few tools to sharpen."

*****

The following morning, I was up and had the blankets off the couch before Molly was awake in my bedroom. Neither of us had gotten a lot of sleep; we'd been up late, trying to perfect one of my ideas.

I assembled my tools of the trade and prepared a quick breakfast while Molly showered. I don't have a water heater, since magic + technology = kablooie far too often, so she was out quick. I was super-wizard smart and showered the night before. Mouse and Mister each got a few morsels, and the eggs and toast were sitting on the counter, ready when she came out, mostly dry and completely dressed. "How you doing, Grasshopper?"

"I'll be honest," she said with a yawn, "I've had field trips that started out better."

I smiled. "I'll keep it simple. Eat. Coke. Car."

She shook her head. "Not hungry yet."

"You'll regret it," I said quietly as I put the last of our collective stuff together. We each had a back pack, with various magical implements, and two days' worth of clothes. I brought my staff and blasting rod, and put two silver rings on each hand. I touched the silver pentacle at my throat my mother had left me, and checked my duster. We both wore shield bracelets around our left wrists, composed of many different metals and enhanced by many different spells. She had swapped out a couple of her piercings for more ornate, magically enhanced ones.

Once we were decked out, we headed outside. The Blue Beetle coughed to life on the third try, and after we located a parking lot with decent rates, we arrived only 2 minutes late at Union Station.

Clearing security was the only hassle remaining to us, since we already had our tickets. There were no metal detectors, so I guess I could have brought my gun. The only thing the guard asked about was my staff.

"My niece and I are going hiking," I said.

"So where's her walking stick?"

"She has better balance than I do."

The guard raised an eyebrow, and I knew I'd played the whole situation wrong, but I was tired. Sue me.

Then, Molly came in off the bench. "Uncle Harry, can I go get a candy bar?"

I smiled and turned to her. "Sure, go ahead." I turned back to the guard.

"Um, Uncle Harry?" I turned back to her. "Can I have some money to go get a candy bar?"

I turned back to the guard again, and rummaged in a pocket. I found a five. "Sure," I said with a sigh, and handed it over my shoulder. "Grab me a Snickers while you're at it."

She bounced away, we both watched her go, and I shook my head, as if to say, _Kids_.

The guard snorted. "Just be glad she isn't your daughter," he said, and waved me through.

Molly joined me a minute later, and passed me chocolate. She's a dear girl. She kept the change, however. Ah, what the hell? She'd earned it. "So," she said, shovelling M&M's into her mouth, "why do I have to be your niece? Why not your girlfriend, or something?"

I gave her a quelling look. At least I aimed for quelling. I was tired and my mouth was full of peanuts and peanut-butter nougat, so I may only have given annoyed.

She raised her hands. "Okay, sorry, touchy subject."

"I thought you had a thing for Ramirez."

"Carlos? He was nice… but he hasn't called me yet."

I shook my head. Young love. And virgins.

It didn't take long to locate Kincaid. He was at the end of the platform, back to a wall, eyes restless. "Glad you could make it." He sounded bored.

"We're here for Ivy," Molly said.

His eyes stopped on her for a moment, and a ghost of a smile touched his face, then they were moving again.

"So where's the other hired hand?" I asked. I was looking forward to meeting someone Kincaid could trust with his most sensitive job ever. Someone who wouldn't lose respect for him in the industry. His eyes settled again, a little behind me. I turned around.

I honestly shouldn't have been surprised. Molly and I both smiled. "Good to see you, Harry," the figure said.

"You, too, Murph." The toughest cop in Chicago was five-foot-nothing, blonde, and had a button nose. Swear to God.

She stepped past us, greeting Molly as she went, then put a hand on Kincaid's shoulder.

I felt a sudden, inexplicable twinge of jealousy, coupled with the need to beat Kincaid to death with my bare hands. Then it passed. How very strange.

He smiled, and there was something ferocious about it. "I've got the last car reserved for us."

"The whole thing?" Molly asked.

"For privacy," he said, picking up his own bag. "And the further you two are from the engine, the better."

"But… the whole thing?" She looked at the car, which about the same size as her house.

"Deep pockets, Grasshopper," I said in her ear, and we boarded.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The train was nice. It wasn't a sleeper car, or anything. The two sides of the car were lines with curved benches, that seemed to fit together with the bench across the aisle. Three or four people could sit in a curved alcove, with a tiny table, facing in, or across the aisle in a curved seat with a larger table facing out the window. This was repeated for most of the car, with a couple of longer, straight benches at one end. They looked good for napping.

I flopped down on a bench, testing for cushiness. It passed.

"So this is home for the next 18 hours?" Murphy asked. She sat next to me. Not touching, but near.

"More like our travelling war room," Kincaid said. "I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm going to check the rest of the train."

"For what?" I asked.

He smiled. "For everything." He put his bag down and departed.

I turned to Murphy. She looked… uncomfortable. Not sand-in-the-pants uncomfortable, but hand-in-the-cookie-jar uncomfortable. "Going out of town for a few days, huh, Murph?"

"Yeah. And so are you, now."

I shook my head. "You and Kincaid…?" I trailed off.

She opened her mouth and kind of tilted her head, a jerky motion. I'd never seen her this put out before. Hers eyes flicked to Molly. I looked at my apprentice, too.

She caught the hint. "You know what? I'm going to go find the dining car. Could I borrow – "

"No."

"Okay."

She turned and left quickly, leaving me, Murphy and the elephant.

Murph crossed her arms. "Before you say anything, Harry, Kincaid and I aren't seeing each other anymore. I'm only here because of Ivy."

I nodded, but I still felt a tiny, little, bitterness. "But you're also here for him. A little bit." She looked angry and guilty at the same time. I instantly felt guilty. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. That was out of line. I have no right to say anything."

"No, you don't." She stopped and we both just kind of sat there for a moment, feeling awkward. "But I'm not seeing him anymore. Just for the record."

"Okay." I tried not to smile. "May I ask why?"

"No."

"Okay."

"You'll mock me if I tell you."

I put a hand on her shoulder. "Karrin, that hurts. It's like you don't know me at all. You should know I'm going to mock you no matter what."

She smacked me in the ribs, but gently, so it only stung for a few hours. She sighed. Without looking at me, she said, "He's not a gentleman," in a tiny voice.

I blinked. "What?"

"He's not a gentleman," she repeated, sounding bitter about it. Huh. Lots of bitterness going around.

My mouth hung open. Then I started to smile. "Not a gentleman. Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. The one thing that you always berate me for, mercilessly…"

She stood up and walked away, shaking her head. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything."

I stood, too, and raised my arms in mock victory. "Ladies and gentlemen, Karrin Murphy wants to be treated like a lady! Wait, what's this? My wizard's senses are telling me something… yes, yes I can feel it. Hell has actually frozen over!"

She punched me in the arm. "Shut up, Dresden."

"Ow. Ha! Ow…" I rubbed my new sore spot. "Hell's Bells, Murph. I'm sorry, but I never thought I'd hear that from you."

"Yeah, well… A lady gets older, she decides she wants different things." She gave me what a better man might seen as a meaningful look.

Her statement made little sense to me. I looked at her, finally serious. "Karrin?"

She changed the subject. "Have you talked to Thomas?"

My mood instantly fell, and I felt the train start to move. "No. Haven't had a chance, yet. He changed his numbers, isn't at his apartment, or salon. And his sister and I aren't on the best of terms at the moment. And I can't scry him, because he took off my mother's amulet."

"So basically, you can't find him?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

She patted me on the arm. "I know what it's like to have problems with a sibling. Did I tell you my sister's pregnant?"

"The one who's married to your ex-husband? Ew, no."

She smiled and sat. "Not looking forward to the family reunion this year."

"Figure it'll be worse than the time I came along?"

"Not even a question. And the best thing about that day was that I met Kincaid. And that's kind of kaput." She looked me in the eye, and spoke with slight suspicion. "My mother liked you."

I shrugged and looked away. "I keep telling you, Murph, I'm pretty darn likable."

Kincaid and Molly chose then to come back in. He looked restless, she looked crestfallen.

"We're secure," he said.

"But the dining car's not open yet."

"I told you to eat earlier," I said.

Something unheard passed between us, and we all moved to sit at one of the middle alcoves. Kincaid leaned against the curved sofa on the other side of the aisle, like a king holding court. No, scratch that. More like a general holding a conference. This was his show. He took a deep breath. "We have18 hours to prepare. At this point, I'll take it we all know we're going up against a Jade Court vampire. I have some history with him."

Molly raised her hand, like she was in class. "Can I ask, why us? Why not a professional rescue team?"

I threw my hand up. "Oh, can I answer this one, Mr. Kincaid?" He gave me a sour look, but didn't say anything. "Because he has a reputation to protect, Grasshopper. If he started recruiting folks in the industry, word would get around that he lost his most valuable charge. Then he'd be a laughing stock. Right?"

"Close enough. All right, let's do a little sharing. Since you love to talk, Dresden, please, begin."

I took a breath, settled into a more business-like manner, and relayed everything Bob had told me, leaving out the sexual references.

Kincaid nodded when I finished. "Impressive. You learned all that in one night?"

"Hell no. I learned all that in half an hour. Molly and I spent the rest of the night working on an idea I had."

I nodded to her, and she dug in her bag, bringing out four pairs of mirrored sunglasses. "These," I said, putting a pair on, "have been enchanted. Vigorously. They will pierce veils."

Kincaid actually looked impressed. He and Murphy each took a pair. "How'd you manage that one?"

"Reflections," I said. "A veil loses something every time it's reflected, or requires greater willpower to sustain. The human eye is a reflector, bouncing the image around inside your brain. But catching a veil in a mirror is easier than looking straight at the veil. And another mirror reflecting that makes it even harder to maintain. If a veiled person walked into a hall of mirrors, no matter how much concentration they had, you'd see them at some point, probably 5 or 6 mirrors down. These glasses simply reflect over and over and over until an image comes through. Molly, if you please."

She nodded, and almost instantly vanished. The kid's got talent, even if not for combat. She's got the most natural veils I've ever seen. I looked at her with the shades, everything dark and a little green-tinted, and she faded back into sight, an outline at first, then in full colour. It took about 2 seconds.

Kincaid took his off. "Not as bulky as infrared. I like. Especially since Jades don't have body heat."

"They don't?"

"Oh, did you miss that point Dresden?"

My turn for a sour look. "Impressive, Harry," Murphy said, and removed her shades. Molly faded back into sight.

"Your turn, Kincaid."

He nodded. "The vampire we're after – Dresden, why do still have those on?"

"Because they make me look cool."

"Christ, I'm going to regret this. The vampire we're after is called Yamohito Hai. Mr. Hai. His stronghold - " yeah, he actually said 'stronghold' " – is in the Front Range of the Rockies, about 30 miles west of Denver."

Oh dear God, that was too funny. I bit my cheek.

"His right hand man is also a Jade, and he's an honest to God ninja. Been studying and perfecting martial arts for decades. His name is Akira Wei."

I almost laughed out loud, but I bit one of my knuckles.

"You got a problem, Dresden?"

Everyone was looking at me. Oh, I was going to get smacked for this. "Sorry. I know we're trying to be all serious here, and I want to be. But we're chasing Mr. Hai?"

"Yes."

"And Mr. Wei?"

"Yes."

"In the Rockies?"

"Yes, what's your point?"

"It's just... we're chasing the Rocky Mountain Hai and the Rocky Mountain Wei."

Molly laughed, Murphy buried her face in her hands, and Kincaid just stared at me, the slightest curling to his lips. "This is going to be the longest ride ever," he said, in a very quiet voice. He shook his head. "The other thing we need to be aware of, is Mr. Hai loves symmetry. Pairs. Balance. Mr. Wei is his right hand, which means he'll have a left hand, too. There isn't one way into his happy home, there's two. And probably two escape routes."

Back-ups for back-ups. Mr. Hai made a twisted sort of sense to me. I hate it when bad guys do that.

The dining car finally opened, and Molly stopped complaining. At least about her stomach.

"Eight dollars for a sandwich? I can't believe that. Would it be so wrong if I just turned invisible and stole one?"

"No such thing as a free lunch, Grasshopper."

We continued our planning. Kincaid had a rough idea of what to expect, and even what the enemy's stronghold would look like inside.

I have to call it that. I mean, come on. Mountain. Freaking. Stronghold. That's classic.

"All right," I said. "We know what we're doing once we get there. But how do we get there, exactly? Car?"

"No roads," Murphy said, looking at a map.

"Military-type off-road vehicle?" I asked.

"Too slow," Kincaid said.

I started to get a sinking feeling. "Approach through the Faerie?"

Kincaid shook his head. "Faerie is a distorted reflection of the real world on the other side of the barrier. How difficult do you think it would be to hike over the exaggerated Rockies, which would be mostly empty, as there is almost no mortal presence on this side, except for a few empty-minded thralls?"

"Is that a no?"

"Yes, Dresden, that's a no."

"Boat?"

"No river near it."

"Well, if we can't walk, or ride, or take an other-worldly short cut... what's left?" Molly asked.

I groaned. "No, Kincaid, this is a bad idea."

"What?" Molly asked. "What's a bad idea?"

Murphy passed her a brochure with a very small plane on it. "We fly," she said.

We spent until lunch arguing about it, but they were right. Stupid Murphy and stupid Kincaid using their stupid logic. And why do they have to be so agreeable about it? And why does she have to sit next to him all day? And why do I have to care so much?

One of the light bulbs above our alcove popped, and I decided to stop thinking about it. Kincaid offered to get lunch for us all. Very generous, since he was the only one with money. Naturally, Molly jumped at the chance to go for food.

"What do you want, Harry?" she asked.

"A lot," I answered.

"You got it, Boss."

Kincaid spoke quietly, almost softly to Murphy. "What can I get you? Turkey?"

She gave him a funny look. "That's bottom of the list. Red meat, please." Then she went back to her map. Once again, Kincaid looked like he'd just bit into a grapefruit.

I hid my smile.

Once they were gone, I said, "I think you're sending him mixed signals, Murph."

"What?"

"Well, one minute you're really friendly, the next you're implying he's an idiot."

"I'm like that with you, too."

Ouch. "Huh. Well that's... hard to argue with."

She suddenly looked embarrassed. "I'm trying to treat him normally, Harry. Like a friend. A good friend. I don't want it to be awkward. And since you're pretty much my best friend... I'm trying to treat him like I treat you. If you think that's not working, I need to know."

I shook my head. "I think you might need to talk to him. Make things very clear. It's... easier for guys that way."

She nodded. "All right. Once this is all over."

We both fell silent. Murphy tried to go back to the map, but didn't seem to be able to. So we both just enjoyed the Midwest plains rolling by for a few minutes. I finally broke the silence. "You know what? Molly probably won't be able to carry everything. I'll go give them a hand."

Murphy nodded, still looking out the window. "Sure, Harry."

I stepped into the next car, the automated door only giving a slight protest. This car and the next two were basically similar to ours, just full of people, nattering away. Low conversations filled the air, a slight hum that had nothing to do with the train. People were talking, laughing, reading books or working with laptop computers. I tried to give those folks a wide berth, but the cars weren't that wide. When I came to the dining car, I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't crowded. The food was all lined up on one side, like a buffet, with a few servers) or porters or whatever you call them on trains) behind the food, helping folks heap their plates.

I was unpleasantly surprised to find no Molly, and no Kincaid. Which made absolutely no sense to me.

I looked around, quickly, thinking I might have missed them beside the door, but no. I knew I didn't walk past them on the way to this car, so that meant they had to be in the next. I jogged up to it, opened the door, and was confronted by the noisiest bunch of children in the world. Babies crying, kids shouting, moms getting ready to cry, and at least two dads loudly talking about football, while bouncing kids on their knees. And everyone looked vaguely alike. I'd stumbled into a family reunion.

I looked around, but didn't even bother asking anyone if they'd seen my travelling companions. Then, in a far corner, I saw them. Kincaid was pontificating to Molly, and neither of them could see me. I admit it, I was curious. And nosy. Instead of fighting my way through the Lord of the Flies re-enactment, I leaned against the wall and Listened. Yeah, another capital letter.

Listening is a skill I picked up ages ago. I used to think anyone could do it, but now I'm pretty sure it's helped along by the magic. Normally I use it to hear something very quiet, but lately, while tutoring Molly, I'd begun trying to use it to filter out sounds, and focus on specific ones. I tried that now. After a few moments, the din faded away, and Kincaid's voice came in, a little distorted.

"… derstand your objections. I'm just telling you, I need you to be prepared. You're the only one on this little trip who has the skills. Harry won't like it. But he'll see the necessity."

Molly looked worried. "Maybe…"

Kincaid patted her on the shoulder, and said, "Let's go get lunch."

I turned and left the car before they moved to leave. I walked steadily, straight back to our car.

Murphy looked up. "Hey. What happened?"

"They'll be back in a minute," I said, sitting down. "And when they get back, don't say anything about me going to get them."

"Did you embarrass yourself?"

"No. But I think Kincaid just asked Molly to break the law for him."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Murphy stayed quiet, but she didn't get friendly with Kincaid for the rest of the train ride. For my part, I stayed friendly, but I didn't let Molly be alone unless she went to the bathroom. We took turns napping, though Kincaid never slept, and I barely did. By the time we rolled into Denver, it was after midnight, and I was cranky. I played it off as frustration that we were stuck on the train when Ivy was stuck under a mountain somewhere, being tortured or God-knows-what. We were a sullen, serious bunch when we finally got off the train.

"Where to, now, Glorious Leader?" I asked.

"We're booked into the Oxford Hotel. It's only a block from here. We're walking."

I cocked an eyebrow. "What, couldn't get a cab?"

Kincaid stepped close, and the four of us gathered into a tight circle. "It's almost a given that we're going to be found out, Dresden. At the very least, I'm going to be recognized, and we're going to be followed. It's easier to spot a tail when walking. Capiche?"

"Unless," Murphy said, "that tail is invisible. And we'll stick out a bit wearing sunglasses at night."

"And keeping track of visions in our eyes," I said.

"Godammit, Harry!"

"Thoughts, Padawan?"

Molly smiled. "I think I need to go to the bathroom. You guys start walking. I'll catch up." I smiled as she scampered off. Yeah, scampered. I'm beginning to think nothing gets that kid down. The rest of us started walking… through Union Station? Oh, wait, that's right. The main train terminals in Denver and Chicago and about a dozen other cities are all called Union Station. Weird.

As we came outside, and Kincaid turned to cross the road, I drew in a little power, and shook my shield bracelet free of my sleeve. There was a light rain. We walked in a triangle, Murphy and Kincaid ahead of me. All three of us kept our eyes open, but I didn't expect we'd see anything. As we moved down the block, a stretch of darkened store fronts beside us, the people we'd been surrounded by in and in front of the station thinned and disappeared. Halfway down the block, it was just the three of us, walking steadily from rain-blurred streetlight to streetlight. There wasn't even a car to break the silence.

My heart was hammering. I knew something was about to happen. It wasn't magic, it was just a plain old hunch. Countless years of evolution were locked inside my hindbrain, and I tried to listen to them. To help them out a little, I reached out with my wizard's senses. I felt something about half a second before I heard the warning.

Molly screamed, "Harry, behind you!" I spun, raising my shield, and saw Molly, still wearing her shades, and a figure dressed entirely in black, both fade into view. The figure had a sword raised, above his head. And he was bringing it down as he jumped.

He was a little off-centre, and my shield only caught about half of his momentum, but it was enough to knock him back. Kincaid and Murphy appeared at my sides, both holding handguns. "Nice entrance," I said. The guy (at least, I think it was a guy) was covered in black fabric, except for his eyes and up, and his hands. His hair was short, barely off his skull. His forehead was wrinkle free, and his eyes were Oriental. He glanced at Molly, then inclined his head to me, slightly. He looked at Kincaid. "Drop the sword," I said. He didn't move. I repeated myself, louder, just in case he was hard of hearing. Beside me, Kincaid and Murphy spread out to flank the guy. Molly wisely held back, literally vanishing into a shadow. The ninja (I've always wanted to say that!) watched Kincaid closely. He slowly lowered himself to a crouch and placed the sword on the street.

"Stay on your knees," Murphy said. He looked at her, a degree of surprise in his eyes. He'd probably never been arrested by someone's cute little sister before. Probably never been owed in an aikido tournament by her, either, but Murph's got the trophies. She's also got the marksmanship awards, and her gun was steady on this guy's torso. "Hands behind your head." He actually complied.

"Who are you?" I asked. His eyes started shifting between us, which I took as I bad sign. He was looking for a way out. I braced myself.

Several things happened at once. The ninja (man, I love saying that!) closed his eyes. When he opened them, his pupils were gone. Without pausing for breath, he launched himself into a backflip. We all had seen it coming, and Murphy and Kincaid both fired. I aimed a little higher, and shouted, "_Forzare_!"

We all missed. He launched himself straight at Kincaid, who was the farthest from any buildings. He kept firing, but Murphy stopped, not wanting to hit him. I saw two bullets strike home, but the guy was obviously a vampire; he barely wavered. His feet connected with Kincaid's chest, knocking him to the ground.

Even as Kincaid fell, and Murphy and I adjusted our firing lines, he was flipping again, in another direction. Leaving his sword behind, he ran up the street, back the way we'd come, and vanished, his veil kicking in.

"Frakking ninjas," I muttered. But I enjoyed saying it.

Murphy was over by Kincaid. "You okay?" she asked.

"Nothing bruised but my pride," he said.

"You can come out, Molly," I said. She popped into view a few feet away. She looked a little spooked, but excited. "Nice work."

"Really?"

"Really. It saddens me, but your apprenticeship might be coming to an end."

"Are you serious?"

"Yup. I'll start calling you the Invisible Woman instead of Padawan."

She broke a huge smile.

"Just as soon as you master creating a shield."

Her face fell.

*****

We booked. Even if no damage had been done, the gunshots would attract some unwanted attention. Murphy slid the sword into something in her pack. Must be a cop thing; I don't travel with extra holsters or scabbards. We got to the hotel with no further incident. Kincaid checked us in.

"Party name, sir?" the concierge asked.

"Blaisedale," Kincaid answered. He pulled out a wallet, and passed the guy 'his' driver's licence. Murphy pointedly inspected a plant while that happened.

We had two, linked rooms, on the eighth floor. The elevator's light started fading on the fifth floor, and popped as the doors opened. Molly and I exchanged a sheepish look, while Murphy rolled her eyes.

Kincaid stopped at one door, and said, "You're in here," to no one in particular. "We're in here," accompanied the next door. I assumed he meant Murphy. She did, too.

"Actually, I thought I'd be in with Molly," she said. Kincaid raised his eyebrows.

I stepped in. "Molly's parents will kill me if I sleep in the same room as their daughter. Like, actually. With swords."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"It's true," Molly said, sounding dejected.

I stepped over to the second door. "Come on, Kincaid. It'll be fun. Guys' night. Besides, those key-cards will never work with two wizards in one room."

Murphy took one of the keys from him. "We'll see you at six," she said.

"One thing, Murph," I said as she got the door open.

"Yeah?"

"You were going to arrest the guy? Three states away from your jurisdiction?"

She shrugged. "Habit."

I smiled. The girls (_women_, sorry, women) disappeared into their room. I turned back to Kincaid, who once again was fighting with bad citrus. He glared at me. I smiled back. He opened the door. There was only one bed.

I stopped smiling.

Kincaid sat in a chair near the window, cleaning guns, while I lay in the bed. "I've been thinking, Kincaid."

"Why do I doubt that?"

I ignored him. "That was Mr. Wei, wasn't it? The guy who attacked us."

He was quiet for a moment. I waited. "Yes."

"Old?"

"About 120 or so."

"Knows how to fight."

"Not a question."

"And he's a Vampire."

"Obviously. Congrats on cracking it, Holmes."

"And despite all that, he didn't go for me, the closet target, or for Murphy, the smallest target. He went for you, the hardest target. Which every century-old battle instinct he has should have told him was wrong. And he let us see him." I rolled over to face Kincaid, who was now very still. "He would have revealed himself even if Molly hadn't said anything. He wanted us to know he was there, and he wanted us to know he was going after you. Which makes absolutely no sense, when you think about it, from an assassin's point of view. Unless, of course, you were the only target. Unless it was personal."

I sat up, and watched him very closely. "You said this was personal, but that's not the half of it. They didn't take Ivy just because they want her. Mr. Hai took her to hurt you. It's personal for him, too. What aren't you telling us?"

To his credit, he didn't try to deny anything. He stood, slowly, and turned to the window. I waited. "Do you know what they used to call me?" he asked. His voice was very quiet.

I did. "Ebenezar said you were the Hound of Hell. A servant of Drakul."

He nodded. "The original vampire. Creator of all four Courts. He found me, gave me purpose. I was his Right Hand for… well, for a long time. Dracula was his first son, and the first of the Black Court. Yamohito was the first of the Jade Court. After the Master and his son had their falling out… Hai became the favoured son. He became the Left Hand. He was known as the Lion of Hell."

"I've never heard of the Lion of Hell."

"That's kind of the point, Dresden. Almost no one has. We worked together for a while. But there was… a falling out. Over a matter of principle. I cut ties, and I've been independent ever since."

"I take it Hai felt wronged during the parting of the ways?"

He nodded. "And after two hundred years, he's getting revenge."

*****

I didn't sleep well. I wanted to ask Kincaid what he said to Molly, but I'd pushed him far enough for the moment. The last few days and hours were roiling around in my head. I was scared for Ivy. I wanted to keep Molly safe, but she would never stay behind, not after coming this far. And Murph would never forgive me for doing that. Not even to save her from a vampiric killer. Naturally, that lead to me thinking about Thomas.

I didn't sleep well. My brother, my blood, my only family. He was a killer. And he was okay with it. He was beyond my reach. I'd failed to save him. I didn't want to think that. The fact I'd actually gone to the library and grabbed those stupid books was proof enough of that. But I had to admit it. Especially since I might be facing the same reality with Ivy.

I didn't sleep well. I was afraid that we might be too late, and were simply walking into a trap, set for Kincaid and whatever hapless allies he'd managed to recruit.

I didn't sleep well. Kincaid snored.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I know Chapter 3 seemed a little rushed. It was. I was busy for a few days (birthday and anniversary) but this chapter is the longest so far, so here's hoping you find it worth the wait. To all those who have messaged saying you like it, I hope you continue to, and to all those just stumbling across it, I hope you start to. Thanks for reading!**

Chapter 4

The cab ride out to the airport began at an unholy hour, and I was cranky. If you read stories about wizards, you often find they're cranky. Look at Galdalf the Grey; always cranky and brooding. The epitome of the modern wizard. Sort of. Fictionally.

Shut up. I'm tired.

I'd managed a few hours of sleep, punctuated by strange dreams, including one that involved a hot tub, and ended with me waking up with a bitch of a headache. I'd have to ask Butters for better pills.

Kincaid was ready to go by the time I'd had a shower (a hot shower! I love hotels). The girls (dammit, _women_) were ready, if bleary-eyed, by the time I'd finished my Coke (a two dollar Coke! I hate hotels).

On the ride out, the conversation was kept to a minimum; only Kincaid was fully awake, and the less said in front of the cab driver, the better. The cab's heater was broken, but I got the front seat to myself, so I guess it wasn't all bad. Poor Molly just couldn't stop yawning until sunrise.

The little airport where you charter private flights in little planes in Denver is attached to the big airport where you catch international flights. Molly, Murphy and I waited outside a small building while Kincaid went inside and talked to a very fat man behind a counter. We waited longer while he laughed at him, and even longer while he handed him an envelope. He looked inside it, his face lit up, and we didn't have to wait much after that.

*****

The plane was old. I supposed it would have to be if it was going to survive having Molly and me on board, but it also looked too small to hold itself in the air. The sun was coming up, and light glinted off the cracking paint. One of the doors was missing.

"Perfect," I said. "I don't see anything that could possibly go wrong with this plan."

Kincaid smirked. "This a Cessna 180, Dresden. It's the only thing available today that's the right size for us. The door is missing because it's usually used for skydiving, and it's been in service since the '50s."

I nodded. Old technology = less kablooie. But still, a plane… I hadn't flown much before. I mean, I've been _sent flying_, but I don't think that quite counts.

The fat guy from the office was getting the little plane ready. I didn't see anyone else around, so I guessed he was also our pilot. For the kind of coin Kincaid had probably flashed, I'd get off my chair, too. I stepped over to Murphy.

"Sleep well?" I asked.

"I had a dream about Corey Hart, you bastard."

I smiled, then glanced over at Molly. She was chewing her lip. Murphy also noticed.

"She was a little weird last night," Murph said.

"How?"

"She wouldn't turn on the lights, unplugged the TV, and spent most of the evening out on the balcony, in the rain."

I nodded, slowly.

"You know what's going on?"

"I have a sinking feeling I do." I walked over to her. "Ever flown before, Grasshopper?"

Molly shook her head.

"Scared of heights?"

Again, a shake.

"Scared of long trips with strange men?"

She finally looked at me. "What? No – I mean, yes, but – you know what I mean. This… no. This is…"

"It's the technology problem, isn't it?"

She nodded. "It's getting worse. Like, at home, the brat patrol won't let me in the TV room anymore. Every time I walk by, the cable goes out." She had six brothers and sisters. That's a lot of ankle-biters yelling at you. "I used to help mom with the taxes and stuff from dad's contracting company, but now I can't go in the office or the computer will die. And I've completely given up having a light bulb in my room."

"You're getting stronger, Molly. That's all."

"But I'm scared. This plane is going to have a hard enough time with one of us on board, and you're better at controlling your magic. I shouldn't go."

"That's sweet, kid. You sure you're not justifying cowardice, though?"

"What?"

"Are you afraid of coming along?"

"I'm nervous, sure. But… look, I want to help Ivy, but what if me coming along ends the mission before it starts?"

I sighed. This had been coming, for a while. "It won't, kid. And before you ask how I know, I'll tell you. Technology and magic don't exist well together. But as forces, they aren't exactly opposed. You just have to stay calm, and relaxed on the flight. Focus on what our goal is. Keep positive energy flowing, you know? The tech and the magic kind of work together, and hold us up until we get where we're going. Hold the anxiety in check, and we'll be fine."

She nodded, a little more certain of herself. God, why-oh-why did you make me such a good liar? Positive thinking doesn't really help, you see. The only thing that keeps magic out of technology is… well, more magic. I'd used a spell a couple times to hold it in when I went on TV. Those were horribly embarrassing moments, so I won't go into detail, but suffice to say, being excited doesn't help with containment. She had to be relaxed, or the flight wouldn't happen.

So, in a way, I guess positive thinking does help. Sort of. In a broad sense. That, and keeping Molly away from the engine.

Shut up. I'm still tired.

*****

The take-off was loud. And bumpy. The plane didn't want to get in the air, but once we bounced a few times, it remembered what it was built for. I had to keep myself from calling up a wind spell to help us up… because doing so was the fastest way back down.

As we flew, Kincaid helped each of us less experienced with the commando approach to powered flight check our parachutes, which were surprisingly comfortable, even with my staff tightly wedged between me and the belt strap. He also tried to explain how they could be controlled, but I could barely hear him, even if I Listened. I noticed with a slight smile that Murphy refused his help.

Molly sat at the back, curled up and trying to be as small as possible, in spite of her layers of clothing. She kept her eyes closed, and her hands together. She was breathing slowly, too. I was never much for meditation, but I tried to keep my thoughts emotion free. It wasn't easy, since I had so much to be worked up about and so many people I was worried about, but I tried.

The view helped, as long as I didn't think about the height. Less than five minutes after take off, the city fell away behind us, and the mountains rushed up to take its place. Rocky in some places, forested in others, with little bursts of buildings showing where small towns where situated. The elevation rose, and I was glad I had two sweaters on under my duster. I even saw Murphy zipping up her jacket.

I suddenly realised I didn't know what the next step was. I'd been worried about getting on the plane and not making it die. I didn't know where we were landing. I tapped Kincaid on the shoulder. He handed me a headset. I put it on, and a quick burst of static let me know it hadn't died. "What is it, Dresden?" I heard his voice in my ears, a lot of static under it.

I tried not to shout back. "Where are we landing, Fearless Leader?"

He grinned. "Who said anything about landing?"

I felt my eyes go wide. "Are you kidding me? Kincaid? You'd better be kidding!"

"We're coming up on the drop zone, now," he said.

"Kincaid!" My voice was taking on a thready, high-pitched tone I didn't much care for. Flying a mile high was one thing, but falling from that height? DNJD, as Molly would say; Definitely _Not_ in the Job Description. "I'm not jumping out of a plane!"

To my dismay, I saw Murphy doing one last check of her parachute. For her, apparently, throwing herself out of a nice, reliable, working flying machine was old hat. Kincaid smiled, and handed us each a pair of goggles. I stared stupidly at mine for a moment, having forgotten how to work goggles. There was only space in my head for one thought:

_Don't fucking jump!_

Molly blinked, startled, when Kincaid forced a pair of goggles into her hand. He had to stretch past me to do so, and I grabbed his shoulder. "This is a bad idea!"

As if in answer, the plane's engine coughed and sputtered for a moment, reminding me of the Blue Beetle in happier, earth-bound times. Kincaid looked at the pilot, who suddenly looked worried.

Kincaid shrugged. "Staying up here is worse, Dresden." He pulled the headset off me, and worked the goggles on. The world turned a sickly shade of yellow. I was in a form of shock, and did nothing to stop him. The closest I came was shaking my head, slowly. I wanted to help Ivy, but killing myself would be bad for everyone involved. Especially me. I saw Murphy shaking her head at me, and didn't care.

"No," I said. I couldn't hear it, but I know I said it. Over and over again. Kincaid reached down and grabbed a strap with a hook on the end and snapped it onto a bar overhead. He sighed, and put the headset back up to my ear. I grabbed it, and tried to say, "There has to be another way!" Instead, while both my hands were busy not grabbing the plane, the son of a bitch pushed me.

*****

I fell. I fell until the bedsheet above me grabbed the air, but for all the good it did, I could have been tied to a whole bed. I clung to the straps above me like they were ropes, attached to the sky. For the first time in several years, I considered praying. Then I considered using my secret weapon.

Sorry, the secret weapon is a long story. Here's the short version: for a while, I had a photocopy of a Fallen Angel (yup, capital letters again) named Laciel stuck in my head. Her job was to tempt me with power. I resisted, got her to thinking about life, the universe and everything, and she actually ended up giving up her 'life' inside my head to save me. While she was there, though, I had access to a power called Hellfire. After I got her out, more or less, a not-Fallen Angel paid me a visit.

Yeah. I didn't see that one coming, either.

His name was Uriel. And that dude was hooked up. He gave me what I can only call a bitchin' reward: Soulfire. It's the positive equivalent to Hellfire, but actually much more useful. While Hellfire can super-charge my spells, it's only real use is to destroy. Soulfire can have the same effects, but its main use is to create. More versatile. Unfortunately, Soulfire, as the name suggests, is fuelled by my soul. I use it too much, soul-go-poof. Which is just as fatal as decapitation.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled near-death experience.

I kept the desire to use magic (and the equally strong desire to close my eyes and cry) under control. I just tugged at the straps and tried to keep my legs a little bent. The rushing wind did nothing to calm my nerves, but the fact that I couldn't hear my self scream worked wonders.

The ground was coming at me like a hungry bear. I was scared, but the twenty seconds I'd spent in flight already had taught me something; I wasn't going to die. Not like this, not screaming and scared, and flailing out of control. So I took a rarefied breath, forced myself to calm down, and aimed for a bare patch of earth. But it was coming up so quickly…

Okay, I was going to die. Horribly. And flatly. Flap-Jack Harry. Gross. No thank you. About 100 feet from the ground, I panicked. I pointed my right hand at the multi-coloured napkin above me, and shouted, with a little too much feeling, "_Ventas Fortius_!"

I think I may have over-reacted.

My parachute caught the sudden gale and did what any good parachute would; it stopped, then went back up, wildly out of control. I flipped over, like a swing going over the bar, and fell again, twisting wildly in the aftermath of the forces I'd disturbed. The bare patch I'd aimed for slipped out from beneath me, and I went straight for a copse of trees.

I made a fist with my left hand, and willed up a shield in a sphere around me. The first branches broke under my weight, but the thicker ones closer to the trunks of the trees held firm, and my shield warped, then shattered. I hit a branch with my shoulder in a very manly way, and blacked out for a moment, again, very macho.

When I opened my eyes, I was upside down, and hanging in the trees. Kincaid was standing in front of me, shaking his head. Molly was limping towards us. Worse than the amusement on her face, or the disdain on Kincaid's, though, was the pity on Murphy's. "Try not to move, Harry," she said. "I'll cut you down." She vanished from view.

"You tried to slow yourself down, didn't you?" Kincaid asked.

"That's ridiculous," I shot back. "Only an idiot would have done that. I tried to send myself back _up, _like a sane person."

*****

Once we were all right side up, we moved quickly. Molly and Murph wore the glasses, Kincaid led us, and I covered the rear.

Kincaid moved like a professional tracker, which in some ways, I guess he is. Murphy is coordinated enough that she also made it look easy. I have long legs, and I'm used to running (good as exercise, better as practice in my line of work). Only Molly had a hard time moving over the rough terrain. The poor kid stumbled a lot, but she never once complained. She's got a lot of heart, and she's been learning quickly. He control is phenomenal, quite a bit better than mine. I once considered myself in the top 40 or 50 most powerful wizards alive, out of maybe five or six hundred. There are plenty of users out there who aren't quite strong enough to qualify as wizards. With all the casualties in the war against the vampire courts over the last few years, I might have moved up to the top 20.

But I'm a sledgehammer. A blunt instrument. I force my spells to work by throwing energy into them until they do. Molly isn't like that. She makes spells work by taking the more limited power she has and using it far more efficiently. Part of being her teacher is that I've been relearning things, too. My control is far better than it was, say, five years ago. But it'll be years more before I'm as competent and precise as my apprentice.

I'm a hammer. She's a scalpel. Different tools, different uses.

The mountain rose before us, and the forest we were moving through thinned. A solid wall of rock presented itself as the last of the trees parted. We hadn't been attacked or even challenged. It kind of worried me. "Good job, Kincaid. You brought us to a wall."

"Shut up, Dresden." He turned to Murphy. "You see it?"

She looked carefully at the wall with her mirrored eyes. She pointed, about 20 paces off to the right. "There."

We moved to where she had pointed. Murph put her hand against the rock, then _through_ it. A veil, of course. Score one for the slick shades.

Kincaid put his own glasses on, and moved into the hole. As soon as he was through, Murphy went in. I waved Molly in next, and finally, staff-first, I stepped into the mountain.

As digs go, it wasn't half bad. My brother's family, the Raiths, have a huge estate just outside Chicago proper. On that property, there is a cave complex they call The Deeps. (Well, they used to; much like the people around me get hurt, the places I go tend to… well, explode.) The main chamber in the Deeps is – well, _was_ - a cave about as long as three or four school gymnasiums, with ridiculously high ceilings, and a bottomless pit at one end.

The Deeps had nothing on this place. I'd call it the Shallows to be witty, but that's insulting to my wit. It had the vaulted ceilings, well lit by torches in sconces and massive, natural looking stone fire pits, each with a semi-circle of cushions and chairs, all evenly spaced down the walls. It spread out in a perfect triangle, away from the entrance we'd just come through. The rock looked like quartz, all glittery and shiny, with streaks of black and green stone running through it. The floor was cut stone, but it was machined smooth, and polished. Someone had put a hell of a lot of work in here, several years worth, at least. Kincaid had been right about the symmetry. Hai was one balanced fella.

The entry was a raised triangular area, which we stood on. On either side of that, four stairs led to the main floor. We glanced around, everyone else taking in things with their glasses. I Listened.

I heard something, and pointed with my staff. "There," I whispered. I'm not sure why. We were perfectly visible.

"Vampire?" Murphy asked. She had an old Army-issue Colt in her right hand. She also had an automatic shotgun slung over one shoulder, that ninja's sword over the other, and another Colt on her left leg. The image turned me on, a little. So sue me.

I wasn't getting a life-sucking vibe. "No," I said. "It doesn't feel like it."

By now, we could all see a human shape coming toward us. Kincaid moved forward, and so did I. Murphy went right, Molly went left. The shape kept coming, but slowly, almost shambling.

"Human servant?" Kincaid asked. He sighted down his own fully-auto carbine. It looked vaguely like an M4, but more complicated.

Molly gasped. "He's not a servant," she said. "He's a snack."

Before I could ask how she knew that, although I already feared the answer, the man came into easy view. He was dressed like a hiker, lose-fitting pants with extra pockets, windbreaker over a sweater, boots. But his face was mostly vacant.

He looked at each of us in turn, then asked me, "Who are you?"

"I'm Harry. Who are you?"

He opened his mouth to answer. We all do it. It's the most natural question in the world, and one of the first we learn to answer as children. We have our name, and we spend the rest of our lives building our identity around it. It becomes our Name (sorry, but yeah, another capital letter,) which is our truest sense of self. Names have power, but only if they are truly linked to a person's sense of self.

This guy didn't have any of that anymore. He struggled with the question for a moment, then seemed to give up. His face went slack. "They cleaned him out," Murphy said.

Kincaid walked up to the hiker, his face unreadable. "They've been feeding. If this guy survives, he'll be treated as a trauma-induced amnesiac. Jade Court are responsible for almost all people found wandering in the wilderness, with no memory of how they got there. It'll almost be better if he doesn't make it."

"How can you say that?" Murphy demanded. The hiker just went on, standing there.

"Who he is," I said quietly, "who he was. That person is already dead. But Murphy's right," I said, stepping up to Kincaid. "The person he could still be is alive. And we will keep it that way, if we can."

I heard Molly whimper behind me. "Nothing," she said, mostly to herself.

I turned to her. "Molly!"

She started. I gave my head a quick, short shake.

She dropped her eyes, embarrassed.

My temper flared. I turned around and walked passed Kincaid. "Boss, a word." I went forward another ten steps. Kincaid followed me.

I turned and eyed him right in the nose. Quietly, I said, "What did you tell her to do?"

He chuckled. "Thought I saw you at lunch." He shook his head. "I told her she was the one who had to be vigilant. To be looking out for all of us. To be checking, to make sure we didn't lose any of our memories."

"You told her to look inside our heads? To keep an _inventory_?"

"That's not a bad way of putting it."

"You told her to violate the law. Which will get me _and_ her executed."

"First of all, she breaks that particular law fine all by herself. Second, I only told her to do what she could to protect us. I know the goddamn laws, Dresden, all seven of them. But if we get in here, and forget, even for a second, _why_ we're here… we'll be worse off than that poor bastard." He hooked his thumb over his shoulder.

"She's _my_ apprentice, Kincaid. _My_ responsibility. And if you do anything else to endanger her, I swear to God or whoever you believe in, I will find you and make you answer for it." The runes carved into my staff glowed a little, with a subtle, silvery-blue light. Damn soul, always sneaking out. Puts on a good show, though.

His eyes flicked to the staff for a moment. "Fair enough." We rejoined the girls (_women_; I'm never going get that right).

Murphy had a knowing expression on her face. "We okay?"

"Peachy," I answered.

"Will there be more? Like him?" She tilted her head at the hiker, where he now sat next to Molly, on the entry dais.

Kincaid nodded. "Probably. I wouldn't put it past Hai to have kept Ivy all to himself. There'll be at least two others, including Wei, and they'll have been hungry."

She stepped right up to Kincaid and put a finger in his face. I suspected not many people could get away with that. "We save every single one we can." She held his eye until he nodded.

Damn, she was good. The mirrored shades really added to the cop image, though.

We put the hiker on a large cushion next to one of the fire pits. Mercifully, he fell asleep. Then we headed for the far side of the Shallow Triangle.

Man, that is a lame name.

The back wall was hung with tapestries. They were extremely ornate, obviously Oriental, and there were two of each. Eight of them hung on the wall, each at least seven or eight feet across and twice as high. The four outer ones were colourful depiction of the seasons; the four inner ones were identical, but in black and white. Every single one looked aged and faded. Set between the colourful and the plain on either side, was a pair of huge doors, made of black wood. Carved in the centre of each pair was the yin/yang symbol.

"I guess we're splitting up," Murphy said from behind me.

I shook my head. "That would be a bad idea."

"Whatever we find down one passage," Kincaid said, "will also be down the other."

"Grasshopper?"

"The eeny-meeny method?"

I nodded. "Very wise. Please, demonstrate."

With a tiny smile, Molly pointed first at one door, then the other, and chanted, "Eeny- meeny miney-moe, catch a tiger by the toe, if he hollers, let him go, eeny-meeny miney-moe." On the last 'moe' she pointed left.

"Left," I said. "How… sinister."

Molly looked at me. "Huh?"

I shook my head and started forward. No one appreciates me.

The doors themselves had large wrought iron pull rings set into the wood. Kincaid and I each gripped one, while Murphy went to one knee in a firing position and Molly leaned again the wall behind me. Then we pulled together.

The cave beyond lead downwards, ever so slightly. It was darker than the triangular room, with fewer torches, and narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. I wouldn't have to duck, but raising my staff would be a problem.

"Veils?" I asked.

"Clear," Murphy said. She and Kincaid took the lead, Molly followed, and I brought up the rear.

The tunnel descended and turned, curving further off to the left. Just as I lost sight of the doorway behind us, brighter light came into view from ahead. There was a chamber waiting for us.

The room was stone, but not worked as smooth as the outer triangle. It was still shot through with green and black, and some red and blue had now been added. The chamber was roughly a cube, about 100 feet to a side, with the hole we'd come through on one wall, and another tunnel leading off the wall to our right. On the wall opposite us, there was another of those fancy semi-circular fire pits.

And there were about a dozen or so people standing in front of us. Every size, shape, colour and background. They all had the same vacant expression, wide-eyed and confused. "Oh my God," Murphy whispered. Some were dressed for hiking, a couple were in their Sunday best, and at least one young man was in his underwear.

Stars and stones. We'd stumbled into the Jades' pantry.

"They were hungry, all right," Kincaid said. Then his head snapped to the other tunnel. I looked over in time to see a man, with long hair and covered from the nose down in solid white fabric, materialise. He was holding a sword in each hand.

Kincaid and Murphy raised their weapons. Several people wandered stupidly in front of them, blocking line of sight. The ninja (swear to God, my new favourite word) stepped lightly and quickly in to the room, dodging from behind person to person. "Stay back, Molly," I said, and stepped in front of her. I shook out my shield bracelet, and so did she. "We get this guy held down, you get these people out."

"Right, Harry."

"Come on out, you coward!" Murphy said, still trying to get a clean shot. "Stop hiding behind them!" Kincaid's aim was swinging with hers, every time we caught a glimpse of the ninja.

"Who is this guy?" I asked.

"Hai's Left Hand," Kincaid said. They were having any easier time following him than I was. Lefty was obviously keeping his veil up. I could only see him when I looked directly at him, but he was so quick, that wasn't happening much. We didn't move from the doorway.

Then, he was gone. "Where is he?" Murphy asked, her voice tight.

"He didn't come through this door," Molly said from behind us.

"And I didn't see him go through the other one," Kincaid said.

"He's still here," I said. "He's waiting for us to make a mistake." I reached into one of my duster's pockets, and pulled out my own veilglasses. I slipped them on, and waited.

Nothing. I saw nothing. This guy had to be pouring power into his veil on the same order that I do to move the wind. Which meant he was _very_ well fed.

Suddenly, there was a quick, almost indiscernible movement off to our left, and the guy in his underwear fell to his knees, his neck gushing blood. "No!" Murphy shouted. She stepped forward before Kincaid or I could react. She did it on reflex, trying to protect an innocent. It was her job, her life.

It almost killed her. I brought up my shield and projected it as far forward as I could, just in front of Murph. Doing so deflected the blade that appeared out of nowhere, but didn't stop it. She took a heavy blow on her right arm, and went down, dropping her gun in the process.

Lefty faded into view and started swinging, mostly at my shield, but one swipe caught Kincaid's rifle and knocked it from his hands. I pushed forward, pouring my anger into my shield like coal into a burner.

Normally, my shield acts as a disperser, like a Kevlar vest. It stops an attack by spreading the force of impact over a greater area. A bullet, for example, hits the shield and instead of a half-inch impact zone, I absorb it with the cross-section of a football, or a beachball, and the resulting impact is reduced enough to be stopped.

With a razor sharp sword edge, there's not much to be spread out. If you stab someone wearing Kevlar, the impact is blunted. But if you slash, the cut across the surface isn't redirected. The _direction_ of the force doesn't allow for it. Much of magic is just energy, and energy is a slave to physics.

Long story made short, I'd have been better off if Lefty had been shooting me. Each of his inhumanly quick slashes took a little energy out of my shield, the point of impact sending up a tiny white spark. With each impact, I fell back a little, and my concentration took the hit. I tried to turn so I was moving away from the others, but I barely registered Kincaid pulling Murph clear. The swords were blinding, the impacts bright and ferocious. I kept having to re-focus, re-position myself to take the hits, and it got harder with each impact. I heard someone yelling in frustration, and knew it was me.

Then one of the swords disappeared from his hand and the neck of an empty-minded young woman appeared in it. I froze long enough to gasp. Then he drew the other sword across her neck, and she started bleeding out just like the underwear man. And the bastard smiled under his white mask.

I started screaming "No!" but it came out incoherently. As I felt righteous fury unleashed within me, I threw my emotions and my innermost being in the furnace of my power, and called up Soulfire.

He'd hoped to cause me despair, to cause me to lose strength, by showing me how hopeless it was to save these people. My guess was he was young and arrogant, or had never heard of me. I swung my staff up horizontally above my left hand, the ancient engraved runes glowing along it in a bright and terrible blue light. Even as he started swinging his swords again, I knew I could beat him. His first three hits were automatic, as he executed a few moves he probably knew better than the back of his hand. He couldn't interrupt his own practiced motions. That just meant he felt the impacts all the more fiercely. His swords bounced off my strengthened shield, and he stumbled back in surprise.

I started walking towards him, a semi-circle of blue power before me, pushing him back towards the door he had entered through. He kept trying to recover and hit me again, but I didn't even feel the hits now, even if I could see them. The power of knowing you are on the right side is remarkable. And the power of the human soul is almost limitless. I wasn't shouting anymore. I wasn't afraid for myself, my friends, or the innocent people still alive in the chamber. I was right. He was a murderer. And I would stop him.

As I pushed Lefty back to the wall, I saw his pupils disappear. He was drawing on his reserves. He was weakening. Then he turned and ran.

Straight up the freaking wall.

Standing there, with a long leather duster and sunglasses on, while a ninja ran up a wall to back flip at me, I couldn't help it. I actually said, "Whoa."

Lefty did flip at me. He was trying to jump over my shield. So I dropped it. Dropped my staff, too.

Remember those silver rings I mentioned? All four of them are kinetic energy batteries. They are enchanted to hold back just a little kinetic energy every time I move my arm. Coupled with my ill-advised tumble through the air earlier, they were bursting with energy. I pointed both my fists at Lefty, and mentally unlocked them all.

Bob was right. The Jade Court squish real good.

His body was blown backwards through the air, into the wall directly above the tunnel… then _through_ the wall, and into the solid rock. What was left of him began to drip out. It was really gross. Then the rock cracked. And again.

"Uh-oh." I turned around. "We gotta get out of here!"

The rock cracked again, louder. "What about them?" Murphy shouted.

Molly pushed her up against a wall. "Stand out of the way!" she said. She got a look of painful concentration on her face. And then, in the back of my head, I heard someone screaming, "Run! Out the tunnel! Run!" I had to fight the urge to run myself. So did Murphy. Even Kincaid took a step before pushing himself back against the wall. The clean slates in our midst couldn't hold themselves back. They started running out the tunnel we'd come in. As they cleared out, I grabbed the body of the young man, who had died just to bait us, and Murphy made Kincaid grab the young woman who had died because I refused to give up. I pushed the thought that Molly was now a repeat offender out of my mind for a moment. The cracking grew exponentially, and as we started up the tunnel, the other tunnel began to collapse.

We emerged into the Shallow Triangle covered in dust, but alive. Kincaid and I placed our sad cargo down near one of the fire pits. We all paused to catch our breath. I stood next to Molly, and put a hand on her shoulder. We didn't look at each other.

"We need to have a talk, Molly." I felt her nod. "About intentions." She nodded again. "But that's for later. For now," I said, looking around at the collective tabula rasa, "I'm glad you're here." She looked over at me, and I glanced at her. There was a tear in her eye. She was deeply conflicted about what she'd just done, and I'd said what she needed to hear. It was a good sign that she felt guilt. It meant she was still a good person. Which meant I could, in all my wizard-y wisdom, let it slide. For now.

"So," I said a moment later. "Eeny-meeny miney-screw it. Right door." And I led the way.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Beneath Edinburgh Castle, there is a network of caves, controlled by the White Council, known as the Hidden Halls. Secret, long, twisty and hard to navigate. And damp.

The Council could take a lesson or two from the Jades. This tunnel was simple. It stretched out, sure. But there weren't endless branches and dead ends. And it was comfortable. No water here. The tunnel we were in now led down to the right, exactly the opposite of the now-demolished one. We marched along, Kincaid and Murphy in front, Molly and me behind. As the second cube room came into view, we paused. Murph rubbed her eyes. Her glasses had been broken in the cave-in.

I stretched out my will, focussed my senses, and literally tried to look at the ground around the corner.

I heard and felt the heartbeats of half a dozen people. And they _were_ people. Plain, vanilla-flavoured human. I relayed that information. "I think we're clear," I added quietly.

Kincaid nodded and Murphy started forward again, though slowly. The cube was well lit, as the other one had been. But while the other had been austere, almost Spartan, filled with nothing but mind-raped, drooling idiots, this room was… almost homey. The floor had some rugs on it. Nothing super-expensive or thick, but they broke up the flow of rock nicely and looked warmer than granite. Along the wall opposite us, there were several seats, mostly older easy chairs. They seemed completely out of place, aside from the people sitting in them. They all looked up when we got to the entryway.

There were three men and three women, all looked to be in their twenties and thirties. They were dressed in various styles. They all looked anxious, and weary, but otherwise comfortable. And each had a chain shackled to their left ankle. The chains were embedded in the wall behind them. There were book shelves behind them, stacked with paperbacks and magazines. While Lefty had been shearing his flock clean, Mr. Wei had been encouraging his to develop new memories, to become a renewable resource. Say what you will about vampires. This guy was forward thinking.

Four of the people jumped out of their chairs. "Can you help us?" one of the women shouted.

"Yes, we're coming," Murph said.

I felt the trap even as I jumped forward and set it off.

"Murphy, no!" As I crossed the threshold of the room, the magical equivalent of a land mine detonated. Fortunately, it was completely magical. That's the best thing to be said about it. I hadn't sensed the latent power because it wasn't active. And I hadn't 'looked' up with my magical senses.

The force drove me to the floor, and Molly with me, face down, and limp. Kincaid joined us, a moment later and just a few feet away, though he seemed to have taken less of it. Only Murphy was still standing. She spun around. "What the hell?"

"They made a mistake," a voice said from the other entryway. Mr. Wei. Murphy spun and whipped her shotgun off her shoulder as she went. He was standing at the door, hands up and spread. I could see him fairly well through my vantage point of between Murph's legs. He was still in his ninja garb, but now his face was exposed. And he looked…

Hell's bells. He looked old. Which, given a born vampire's recuperative abilities, could only mean one thing: he didn't feed much. I managed to move my eyes and saw all of his charges had backed away from him. One of the women (and two of the guys) had started quietly weeping. He'd been taking from them, but not enough to destroy them.

"A mistake? What did I do differently?"

"You were not born with magic in your blood." His accent was mild. He probably spoke better English than I did. He took a few steps forward. "The device only reacted to that."

I tried to say, "You devious bastard," but it came out more like, "Uh-viss-ter."

Murphy shot a look over her shoulder, but Mr. Wei didn't take advantage of the moment. He stayed where he was. He still held his hands out to his sides. Something about this guy was off. Murphy sensed it, too, I'm sure. "What device?"

He gestured. "Above you, on the wall."

"Let them go."

"I cannot. It was designed by the White Council itself. The creator… no longer knows how to make them."

Anti-magical landmine. Son of a bitch. Not surprising that the Council wants these sorts of weapons, what with how they recently exposed (with a certain handsome young wizard's help) a traitor or two in their midst. But secret weapons suck.

"You stay out of my head," Murph said, her voice very quiet.

"I respect you, as a warrior. I would not dare damage that."

Murph gave him a steady look. She was thinking, fast. "You… you aren't a ninja, are you?" she asked. Her tone changed completely. I focussed on moving my right hand. Couldn't even twitch a finger. But Kincaid could.

"No," Wei answered. "Over a century ago, I was born to the Court. But mine was a time of upheaval. The only firm thing in my life were the old teachings. _Bushido_."

Murph lowered her gun and looked at the people chained to the wall. She shook her head. "You're a monster who wants to be a _samurai_."

"I can claim to be nothing else," he said.

I looked again at Kincaid. His left hand was shaking a bit. I couldn't move myself, but since he was only half-human and half-magical, there might be a bit more wiggle room. I started drawing up my will and focussing it on Kincaid. It took a hell of a lot more effort than usual.

"I want Ivy," Murph said.

"I regret that I cannot give her to you. What the master wants, I cannot take away."

"Then you and I have a problem."

"I regret that, as well. You must leave."

"I won't. Not without her."

He smiled. "I would not respect you if you did."

"There's only one way through that door, isn't there? And it's through you."

"I do not wish to kill you."

"I was just thinking the same thing," Murphy said, putting her gun down and drawing out the sword over her shoulder. Wei's eyes flashed.

_Keep moving, Kincaid_, I thought. _I've almost got something_.

"Family heirloom?" Murphy asked innocently.

"A gift. From the master."

"I see. I'll trade you."

That surprised him. "What?"

"Sword for safe passage."

He smiled. "I could just take it."

"But you won't. _Samurai_."

His face fell. "No. I will not."

"Then we still have a problem." Murph glanced back at us. Kincaid wiggled a foot. Molly and I were still.

She brought the sword to guard.

One of the prisoners at the far end of the room shouted, "Lady, don't be crazy!"

Murphy ignored him. "I challenge you," she said. "For the freedom of my friends. And your prisoners."

I almost lost my concentration. I tried to say, "Stars and stones, Murph, no!" but it came out, "Sirntonmur, nnn!"

Wei considered for a moment. "I am stronger and faster than you. More skilled. More practised. There is little honour in accepting."

By now, Murphy had moved a few yards away and I could see her face. She smiled. "There's none at all in refusing."

Man, even _I_ didn't have a good come back for that.

Wei reached back and drew out the sword's twin. The blade didn't reflect him. His natural, backwards veil kicked in instantly, hiding his reflection but not him. Kincaid had almost made a fist.

"Very well," he said. "I accept."

They both stood straight for a second, then bowed. Bob had been right about the formality. No step was skipped. Then Murphy broadened her stance, cracked her neck and started to look relaxed. Wei didn't move while she did this. Then, abruptly, he vanished.

But he wasn't feeding as deeply as he could have been, and even after a century of experience, he wasn't as natural with veils as Molly. Ever seen that movie, Predator? Where you can see the creature's outline? It was like watching that. Even so, the dude was fast. I saw the hazy, silent streak crossing the room and heard a prisoner cursing.

Murphy didn't move at first. In fact, she closed her eyes. I'd try to teach her Listening, but I never thought we'd made much progress. I couldn't help her, one way or another. I kept focussing on drawing in my power (which was taking _forever_) and freeing Kincaid. So close…

The blur that was Mr. Wei came straight at Murph. I couldn't make out more subtle movements, like where his arms were, or what his sword was doing, but I guess Murph was listening very closely. I heard just the slightest breath of noise from the invisible streak, and saw Murphy bring the sword up for a high block. I saw the sparks of the impact. Murph turned, and immediately had the sword in a low block for the follow up attack. The impact knocked her back.

Murphy gasped, a couple of the prisoners made scared noises, and I said, "Rrrnn!"

Wei paused, and faded into view, just long enough to give Murph a polite nod. Then he was gone again.

I considered using Soulfire to speed up the process of working the spell, but for some reason, as soon as I had the thought, one of those migraines I'd been having cut across my brain. I almost lost the power I'd been struggling to bring in.

Murphy blocked again, but this time, the follow up wasn't as low. The sword flashed into view as it sliced across her abdomen. The cut was long, and blood welled up instantly. She fell to the ground with a cry.

I screamed inside my head. The prisoners made whimpering sounds.

Murphy got up. Wei appeared again, standing a few yards away. "Do you yield?" he asked. Murph took several breaths, then shook her head, like I knew she would. Like I would have in her place. "Very well," Wei said, and disappeared yet again. The bastard was not playing fair, but like he'd admitted already, he was a monster.

Murph blocked low this time, caught the invisible sword by surprise, and spun, lashing out long. I swear I saw the blur bend backwards and retreat a step or two. I also felt the spell in my head begin to coalesce.

The blur moved again, quickly. Murph changed tactics and threw herself into a roll, bringing the sword to a horizontal position. It caught on something mid-roll, because she was knocked to the side. As she stood, another blow came at her, high. She blocked, then a low, then another low, then a high, then she blocked low, and screamed. Blood welled up on her strong arm, and she fell to one knee. The blood on her stomach was getting darker.

Wei appeared again. He had a gash on one leg, but the pale blood over the wound was already drying. The cut had closed. "Impressive, for a mortal," he said, without drama. "My blood has not been drawn in some years. I ask again, for the final time: Do you yield?"

Knowing what was at stake, I think everyone in the room already knew Murphy's answer. But it had to be asked. "You're a monster," she said, pulling herself to her feet. "You want to be a warrior. You want honour. But all you can do is lord over me. You don't see me as a potential equal, so you don't fight me like one."

He looked honestly confused. "You want me to… fight you on your own level?"

She smiled, and it was wolf-like. "I don't think you could beat me if you didn't use you bag of tricks." She swayed a little on her feet. She was losing blood.

His face was deadly serious, now. "Only a fool would not use every advantage at his disposal. I am a vampire. I am above you. We are _not_ the same species."

I felt a pang, somewhere near the middle-left region of my chest. It may or may not have had anything to do with my brother. I'm not sure.

"You're right," Murphy said. "We are different. I at least have the chance to be honourable. You… are just a monster."

As you might have guessed, that little conversation pissed him off.

Fortunately, it also gave me time to finish the working in my mind. I tried to say, "_Liberatus_!" and it came out "Llllbssss!"

It's possible to work magic without words. The words just form an insulation, a barrier between the wizard and the power he (or she) has called up. The words help contain and focus the power. Magic can still be worked without them, but they help shape the thoughts that shape the magic. Otherwise, the power can get a little out of control.

Kincaid was instantly free. The spell also pushed him and gave off a flash of light, but he rolled over and didn't know I'd screwed up, even if just a little. As Mr. Wei charged at Murph, Kincaid grabbed her shotgun off the floor. While still lying flat, he brought it up with one hand… and fired at the spot between Murphy and the vampire.

Wei couldn't stop in time. He charged right into the massive slug, which ripped into his torso under his arm. It knocked him off target, and Murphy dropped to the ground. Kincaid was up and firing again faster than anyone I'd ever seen. He fired six times, and didn't miss once, before the gun clicked empty. Wei took every shot, but did not fall over. His eyes started to glow, and like the predator he was, he turned to the nearest food source: Murphy.

Kincaid ran straight at him, the empty shot gun in his hand. He jumped almost his own height into the air, yelling, and swung hard on the way down. He clocked Wei in the head.

The vampire fell flat on his back… and face down. Yes, it is possible to do that, but your neck has to be _very_ broken.

From the far end of the room, one of the male prisoners said, "Holy shit," in a reverential tone. I couldn't blame. I would've done the same, if I could.

Kincaid looked down at Wei for a moment, then turned and threw the now-twisted weapon at the wall above and behind me and Molly. There was a shattering noise, and I could move again. By the time Molly and I got to our feet, Kincaid was checking Murphy's injuries, and already starting to bandage her up.

"Not deep, but long. You're going to bleed, heavily."

"Guess I don't make it to the final round, huh?"

"No… but you got us there."

I kneeled on Murphy's other side. "Murph, you have got to be the toughest man in this woman's army."

"Smartest, too," she said. I smiled. "You sure took your time, Harry."

"How'd you know I was going to do anything?"

"You're a bull in a china shop, Dresden. It's always just a matter of time before you break something." She smiled.

I rose, and moved to Wei's body, which was starting to decompose already. It had turned fungus-y, and the short hair had turned white. "Hey," I shouted to the prisoners. "Does he have the key on him?"

They looked at each other. The guy who'd told Murphy not to be crazy spoke for them. "We don't know, man. And even if we did before…" he shrugged.

I nodded, and crouched down to check the body. It was soft. No smell yet, which I was thankful for. There was a small pouch on his belt. Inside was a very old photo of a woman I didn't recognize, and a key. The lady in the picture was obviously Japanese, and very pretty. There was nothing on the back, and I doubted I would ever know anything else about her. I left it with the body. "Molly!" She jumped up from beside Murphy. Kincaid was helping her stand.

Molly ran over to me. I handed her the key. "Get them out," I said, hooking a thumb over my shoulder. "Murphy, too."

She nodded. She hesitated for a second, then hugged me. She's a sweet kid. "Good luck," she said, then ran with the key.

Kincaid leaned Murph against a wall, where she drew her last gun. "She you soon," she said to Kincaid. He nodded, picked up his rifle, and headed for the other door.

I went over to her. "Go heal," I said.

"Go save," she replied.

I smiled. "It's kind of what I do." I offered my fist, and she bumped it. I grabbed up my staff, then I ran to Kincaid. "Let's finish this," I said.

We headed up the tunnel.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

This room was nice. Kind of reminded me of my own apartment, actually. Lots of rugs on the floor, covering the bare rock. Lots of bookshelves and chairs along the walls. But the resemblance ended there. The place was freaking huge, for one thing. A tleast as big as the Triangle out front, but more pyramid shaped. So many geometric shapes, it was like being back in fourth grade.

The place was a museum. There were stone pedestals everywhere, with glass-topped cases holding artefacts, mostly Asian for the looks of it. Warrior's helmets, books that would crumble at a touch, pieces of gold and silver jewellery. There were a few ancient sets of armour on stands. Lighting was provided by torches and a huge hearth in the dead centre of the room. As it came into view, so did the altar on the far side.

Ivy was lying on it. She was wearing a white dress, and the stone altar was covered with a white sheet with Asian characters embroidered on it in red. She was shuddering, barely moving, her mouth was open. She was drooling a little. In any other circumstances I'd say she was having a nightmare. Kincaid and I traded a look. Without speaking, I moved right, and he went left around the fire, slowly. My shield was ready, my glasses were on, and my ears were open.

So it was a total surprise when Kincaid went flying.

He flew into a pedestal, and it crumbled on top of him. Mr. Hai, who was wearing a conservative grey suit, appeared where he had been a moment ago. My shield was up, but Hai didn't move. He just looked at me. "Ah," he said, in perfect English, "Mr. Dresden."

I guess I'd been expecting the stereotypical Dr. Fu Manchu. This guy looked more like Jet Li. Young, athletic, handsome. He might have given Thomas a run for his money with the ladies. Or gentlemen. "Hi," I said.

"That is correct." It took me a second. Then I nearly laughed in his face. "I will admit, I didn't think you'd find a way to get here."

Ah, what the hell. "You might say there's no Wei, now."

"Very clever." He didn't sound amused. I heard Kincaid pull himself up, getting Hai's attention. "Excuse me, for a moment." He vanished.

"Ah, crap," I swore.

Kincaid started firing at something, but just a few glass cases exploded. Then he was flung into the air again. He came down in a stone pedestal one more time, Then, Hai faded into view. He picked up the pedestal, and dropped it on Kincaid. The whole thing had happened in less than three seconds. By the time I'd pulled my will together, he facing me, calmly again, as tough he'd done no more than take a few steps.

Double crap.

Then I blinked, and he was standing next to me, just outside my shield. I jumped out of my skin. "Don't be so surprised, Mr. Dresden. I am very quick."

"No kidding," I said. He was faster than anyone I'd ever seen. It was like he hadn't moved at all, the world had just shifted under him. I heard Kincaid moan.

"We should speak, Mr. Dresden."

"Speak? You beat the stuffing out of my friend, kidnap a person I care about, eat her brain, and want to talk? Bite me! _Forzare_!"

I threw the spell with a lot of anger and nervousness behind it. I hadn't even meant to fire it off until I was halfway through the word. I knocked him back about twenty feet, where he landed on his back, next to the fire pit. I ran for Ivy.

Hai met me there. I came up short. I hadn't even seen him move. He was just there. And my shades were still working… I thought. I should have seen through a veil.

He was leaning against the altar now, and fixed me with an amused look. I drew up short and threw my shield back up. "A person you care about, you say?" He looked down at Ivy's twitching body. "She thinks of you as an uncle, Mr. Dresden. Perhaps even a brother. She cares for you, too. Very much. But Kincaid… she loves him as a father."

I was confused. "I know you did this whole thing to hurt Kincaid. But why ramble about our pseudo-family to me? You're not telling me anything I didn't already know."

He laughed. "It is true that taking the Archive was a blow to Kincaid. My old friend cares very much about his reputation." He nodded at Kincaid.

I did a double take. He was still buried under a broken pedestal, but it wasn't where I thought it had been… and there was at least one more pile of stone than there had been a moment ago. I thought.

He shook his head. "But the truth is, she is eternal sustenance for my kind. We have been planning this for some time. You know, some people actually think they can hide from my kind by holding their breath? How quaint is that? In the end, of course, none can hide, for someone always has a memory. I want to offer you something, Mr. Dresden."

"What kind of offer?" I just wanted to keep him talking, give Kincaid a chance to move.

"You have killed my enforcers. I am in need of new ones. I'd like you to become my Left Hand."

I stared at him. "That's both insulting and disgusting."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I know what guys do with their left hands, asshole." I called up my power. "Besides, you've been mentally raping Ivy for days. I can't forgive that." I lifted my staff. "Now get out of my way." He just looked at me, all amusement gone. "Fine. _Forzare_!"

He was suddenly standing next to me, completely unruffled. "That," he said, "was impolite." Then he hit me.

I went into the air, and came back down in the fire pit. Fortunately, my duster is tough leather and covered in even tougher spells and wards, so I didn't burn. I got the hell out of the hearth, though.

How had he hit me? My shield was up… wasn't it?

He walked toward me, and I chanced a glance at Kincaid… except he was under a different stone, again. But I didn't remember…

Oh, _shit_.

"You're eating my memories as soon as I make them!"

He shrugged. "Even before you realise you've made them, in some cases. It's actually quite fun."

I shifted my staff to my left hand and grabbed my blasting rod from under my coat. I pointed the stick at him, gathered up my will…

What was I doing? I have my blasting rod out, so I'm casting a fire spell, obviously. But what was my target?

And what is this stick in my hand?

"Ah, Mr. Dresden," a vaguely familiar voice said from behind me. "There is so much in here, for one so young."

I was a young person. Very young. Where was I? Nick? He just hired me. Nice guy, taking a chance on me…

Except, I still live with Ebenezar. So how could I have a job? Oh, wait, I don't…

Oh, God, no… the wardens. They had me. I was going to be executed, wasn't I?

I think. What for? I hadn't done anything wrong. I just wanted to go home… back to Justin and Elaine…

Wait. Who's Elaine?

Why am I so confused? I fell to my knees. What was going on? Dad? Where are you? Where am I? Mom? I could see my mother… no, just a picture. And my dad. But… they were getting fuzzy around the edges…

"Ah, Mr. Dresden. It was a pleasure getting to know you," a voice said in my ear. It didn't sound familiar at all.

There was one thing floating in my thoughts. A short blonde woman. What's her name? She's pretty… but I know she's tough. She's a friend… or something… but she's fading, too…

I closed my eyes and lay down. There was nothing. Nothing to worry about, nothing to fear… Nothing to love, nothing to care for. Nothing worth sacrificing for…

I smiled. I'm not sure why.

I heard footsteps, walking away from me. It was nice and quiet… and warm and dark… Then a headache set in. It was going to be bad, I could feel that right away. Migraine, I think they're called? Ow. Ow-ow.

There was a sudden, blinding light behind my eyelids, accompanied by a dark green flash of a few lines in a familiar shape… then _everything_.

My life suddenly played back for me, filling in and moving at a ridiculously accelerated speed. I saw my father, my time with Justin, Elaine, Ebenezar, Chicago, my office, my home, my friends… Murphy.

The instant replay caught up to today, then the last few minutes, and I remembered seeing Hai tussling with Kincaid, over and over, and the Hound of Hell refusing to stay down. I saw Hai running from position to position, just to screw with me. I saw Ivy, writhing under his psychic touch.

Oh, and I remembered how to throw fire. I pushed my self up. I saw Hai freeze, and as he turned, I lifted my blasting rod again.

"No, you cannot - !"

"_Fuego_," I growled.

Turns out Bob was right about Jades burning real good, too. Hai was fast, but I was pissed. I poured all the rage and indignation I had into the fire, and it burned hot. He tried to run, but I followed him, and I caught him. His nice suit went up quick. I got to my feet, and ran after him. He was circling back toward Ivy, and no way in hell was that raping bastard getting near her again. "Forzare!" The pure force took his feet out from under him, while he still burned. I did a little mental math, and shouted again. He flew backwards, right into the firepit. Breathing heavily, I ran for Ivy.

Her eyes were just fluttering open. Her twitching had stopped. When she saw me, she gasped and tried to push me away with her hands, but I caught them in my own. "Easy!" I said, quietly. "Ivy, it's me! It's Harry!"

She stopped struggling. "Harry?" She sounded uncertain. Then she looked at me a little longer. Her eyes filled with recognition as the memory she had of me grew back. "Harry!" She hugged me, fiercely, and I hugged back. She sounded like a little girl. A frightened, hurt little girl, and I suddenly wished I could've killed Hai again.

I'm such an idiot. I mean, the expression is 'Careful what you wish for, as you just might get it.' Well, Hai was very well fed. His blackened body erupted from the fire, running at us in great, hopping steps, and as he screamed wordlessly, Ivy froze. I turned, trying to bring my shield up…

… when a piece of granite smashed him in the face. He went over on his side, but hopped back up to his feet, growling. Kincaid was up and running, his face set and grim. He didn't have so much as a scratch on him. Though, his hair was messed up. I grabbed Ivy and hauled her off the altar; after a moment, she moved with me. We took shelter behind a stone display pillar, showcasing a bell and a map of a remote part of China.

"He kept eating my magical knowledge," Ivy said. I couldn't fight him off."

"It's going to be okay, kiddo. He can't hurt you anymore. Kincaid'll see to that!"

There was a lot of noise, and I chanced a look. Kincaid threw Hai through a pillar, then jumped at him, swinging an old sword. Hai faded out, then reappeared, holding a shield taken from another set of armour. Kincaid broke the shield under his weight and drove Hai back. Then the charred vampire (whose skin was growing back, which was gross to watch) grabbed another sword, and the blades were clanging. After a quick exchange of blows, Hai got a kick on Kincaid, and the bigger man fell backwards into the altar itself. Hai had a sharp point at his throat in an instant, but Kincaid got an arm on his wrist, and the other hand around Hai's throat. The vampire also got a hand on Kincaid's throat. It was like that old episode of _Star Trek_, where those two evenly matched guys are forced to battle for eternity in an inter-dimensional warp-bubble or something. Stalemate.

I stood and hefted my staff. The thing about many wizards is that they come to rely on magic. In my opinion, a little too much. A staff, for example, is a fine tool for focussing power, but most magic users forget: it's also a damn heavy piece of wood. I swung it above my head, and brought it down on a slight angle, away from Kincaid, into Hai's face. He fell back bonelessly. Kincaid gave me a fierce grin, then launched himself at Hai again. The vampire got his legs up, though, and caught Kincaid, sending him back, and into the altar. I didn't hear any bones break, but Kincaid went down.

Hai struggled to his feet. He threw the sword at me, but it went wide. The idea of letting him surrender never entered my mind. The son of a bitch was a remorseless rapist and killer. He was going down. "_Forzare_!" I snarled, and it knocked him to the ground. I went after him, but I didn't jump. As I brought my staff down on him again, one of his almost-healed arms came up and blocked it. Then he swept my legs out from under me. He stood, slapping my staff in one palm as he walked around me. I tried to back up, but he danced along, losing no distance from my prone form.

His still blackened face made words, but they had none of the smoothness of a few minutes ago. "Mr. Dresden, it seems a shame to kill one with so much potential. But I have lived a long time, and I know how to deal with regret." He brought the staff up.

I readied my death curse. This guy was going to die, even if I had to go first to make it happen.

I needn't have bothered. The sword he'd dropped suddenly slid through his neck, blade side up. Then, it moved up, and literally cut his head in two.

He dropped my staff, then fell in a limp pile. I looked at Kincaid, but he was still on the ground at the altar. We looked at Ivy.

She sat near where I'd left her, her right hand extended, palm out. Her eyes were filled with hatred, and some sadness. Her dress was deep red over her chest. She had pulled the sword out of herself and sent it at Hai. Then she sagged against the pillar, her eyes wide and her breathing ragged.

"No," Kincaid said. "No, not like this!" He pushed himself up, and ran to her. "Ivy? Ivy, stay with me, Little One. Stay with me!"

I grabbed my staff and hauled myself to my feet. I had not come this far and fought this hard just for it to end like this. But I'd seen injuries like hers before. They were not easy to deal with.

"Dresden! Help me! She can't – You can't – Don't let it end like this!"

Of course, I'd rarely had the tools I had at my disposal before. "Get her to an open, flat place!" I cried.

Kincaid lifted her, gentle as could be, and moved her a few feet to an open area near the hearth, covered in stone dust. I quickly walked around him, drawing a circle in the dust with the end of my staff. As I closed the circle with the three of us inside, I pictured a wall going up in my mind, and I felt the pop in my head of the magic getting sealed in. I started gathering in all the power I could. But there was something else I needed. "Kincaid, I need your blood."

"What?"

"You love her. That's powerful. And your blood is part Fae. That's even more power. Mixed together, I can work with it, but it must be willingly given."

Without another word, he pulled a Bowie knife out of his boot and laid it against his palm. Then he drew it down, short and quick. Blood welled.

I took his hand with mine and placed it over Ivy's heart. Then I started the process of _creating_. I can't explain how it happens, exactly, but magic is power, and power mixed with the right ingredients can create amazing things. This little girl, with all the magic in her (rapidly emptying) veins, coupled with the power of one who loves her, was almost enough. But not quite. I infused the spell with Soulfire.

Suddenly, I could _see_ Ivy's heart, in my mind. I could _feel_ it. And I could tell where the damage was. My hand glowed blue and white, Kincaid's was red and dark, but the blood flowed and carried the power of life in it. I began to see the individual cells, and I willed them together, fusing, binding, merging. Gradually, the damage was undone. Slowly, the injury healed. Then, after an eternity, she was whole. I gave one last push, and forced her heart to start beating again.

I fell back from her as she started gasping. I was gasping, too, almost hyperventilating. My vision went a little fuzzy. I saw Kincaid and Ivy hugging. Then my vision went a lot fuzzy.

Whoops. Used a little too much Soulfire. _That, _I thought,_ is not good_. But as everything went dark, I saw Ivy smile. _That_, I thought, _is good_.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed this tale. I've gone back and made some edits, and to MasterPoe, thank you for the advice on the Jiang Shi. To everyone who pointed out Harry's flight history: Thank you. I hadn't actually finished Turn Coat when I started this story. Now I know better.**

Epilogue

I woke up in my own apartment. On my own sofa. It felt like a dream. Soft, warm, comfy. Then the fight with Mr. Hai came flooding back. My eyes jumped open and I tried to sit up. "Easy, Harry," a wonderfully familiar voice said. A soft hand appeared on my shoulder, and gently pushed me down.

"Murph. Wha' happen? You were hurt." My mouth felt a little cottony.

She smiled, and lift the bottom of her loose-fitting shirt. She revealed a bandage, stretching side to side. "It's a bitch of a skiing injury, no? I won't be going back to Colorado any time soon. At least, that's what I'm going to tell everybody who asks. Can't even bend over properly."

"Huh. The image of you bending over makes me feel better."

Her cheeks flushed a bit, and she hit me. "You're a pig, Dresden. Who's obviously going to be just fine."

"Ivy?"

Murphy sobered. "She had a rough time of it. Tough kid. We were out in the open, Molly, me, all the prisoners. Ivy came through the hole in the rock. One of the vamps must've been maintaining it, because it vanished at some point. Kincaid carried you out. Then she just… opened a hole, in reality. Like you do."

"They took us through the Nevernever?"

"She must've known something you didn't. Big surprise there. We left all those people just outside Golden. The ones who still had their wits said they'd keep quiet. Then, we were back here. Whole trip couldn't have taken an hour. And only once we were back, and Butters was checking you and me out, did she start crying."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. The thought of Ivy crying made me angry. "She's so young," I murmured.

"Everyone's too young for what she went through," Murphy said. "She told us. She opened right up to Molly, like a sister. The rest of us just listened." Murph took a breath, then continued, anger in her voice. "He hurt her. He tore into her. Brutally. Took everything she knew, and just… twisted it away. Ripped it right out of her. Every means she had of defending herself… taken away."

"It was worse than last time, with the Denarians. It was rape. He hurt her, dominated her, left her helpless, and tried to break her… but he couldn't." I felt anger mix with pride.

She nodded. "She's going to need time to recover. Lots of it."

"But she will be okay. In time, she'll learn to deal." I felt the truth of the words as I said them. "Her innocence is gone, but she's got someone who loves her." I looked at Murphy. At Karrin.

She looked back at me for a second, then changed the subject. "Butters had to go to work. Molly's walking Mouse. Oh, and Ivy and Kincaid both left you notes." She handed them over.

Ivy's wasn't written in crayon this time. It was a single, folded piece of paper. Inside, it simply said, 'Thank you.' I smiled, a little.

Kincaid had left an envelope. I opened it up, and chuckled. "What?" Murphy asked.

I pulled the cheque out. "It's one tenth what I paid him to hit Mavra a couple years back." I laughed again, then cut myself short. That wasn't entirely true. "What Thomas paid him."

We fell silent for a moment. "Life is short, Murph." I sat up. My blanket fell down, revealing my chest. I checked under the blanket. "Please tell me Molly isn't the reason I'm naked."

She flushed again and wouldn't meet me eyes. "She's… not." She pointed to the coffee table, where some boxers, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt waited for me.

I couldn't help it. I smiled. "Murph?" My tone went from teasing to soft. "Karrin?"

She looked back at me, and sighed. Her eyes were a little hard to read. "I told you before a woman wants different things as she gets older." I shifted around to get my feet on the floor and face her. "My sister getting pregnant just kind of… emphasises that. They've been trying for a while. But here I am, refusing to be with anyone. I don't understand myself sometimes."

"Trying to go it alone can be… very difficult," I said.

"You're an idiot, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "I know. About what, this time?"

"Thomas. You can see it for everyone else, but not yourself."

"See what?"

"Love, Harry. You keep seeing it, and saying it, but you don't apply it to the most important relationship in your life. Your only family."

Hell's bells, she was right. "I can't appeal to his body, or his mind… but I can keep on his heart," I whispered to myself. She heard me anyway.

"Exactly."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I can work on your heart, too, you know."

She coughed out a laugh. "I think we already covered you being an idiot."

"I'm serious, Karrin. If you're ready for a relationship, if we want the same things, I'm right - "

"You can't grow old with me, Harry."

There was a heavy silence for a moment. Technically, she was right. She didn't know about the loophole, though. "Yes, I can."

"Wizards live for centuries, Harry. I'll be dead and gone before you're even grey."

"I'll give it up," I said.

"What?"

I looked her in the eye as long as I dared. "I'll give it up. The magic. The power. I'll let it go. It's like a muscle. If I don't use it, it'll atrophy. And after a few years, it'll be gone, and I'll be a plain, vanilla mortal."

She was quiet for a long time, staring at me. "You'd do that?"

I realised I'd already thought about it. "Yeah. For you. Not for anyone else." I put hand under her chin. There was a combination of fear and hope in her eyes. "Magic can't solve every problem, Karrin. A lot of wizards forget that."

"I'm already older than you, Harry."

I shrugged. "I'll catch up." Then I pulled her to me, and damned if she didn't kiss back.

_This is it_, I told myself. _I'll give it up. I'll become a regular PI. I'll grow old, and let all those things I've held on to go…_

Then she was pushing me away. "No, Harry."

"What? What do you mean, no?"

"The power you have… I'll seen it. I've felt it. I know how much good you do. Every life you've saved, every life you will save. I can't take those away from the world."

The door opened before I could think of anything to say. Molly came in with Mouse, and stopped, looking back and forth between us. "I just walked in on a grown-up moment, didn't I?"

Mouse just looked from Murphy, to me, then Molly, then he started walking, dragging Molly along by his leash. He pulled her right into the bedroom, then turned and kicked the door closed. Swear to God, my dog is the smartest person I know. I turned back to Murphy.

"If you gave it up, what would happen to Molly?"

I opened my mouth, but I didn't have an answer. She'd probably be moved on to apprentice another wizard. Probably. Or she'd be executed if no one wanted the job. No way to be sure which.

Murph nodded, seeing the answer in my face, then stood. I grabbed the boxers and pulled them on as she headed for the door. "I'll see you soon, Harry."

"Yeah," said, struggling into my jeans. "Yeah, you will."

"Hey, one more thing," she said, in that off-hand, Detective Columbo way. "Kincaid said he saw you get all glassy eyed and dopey, like the ones they cleaned out completely. Then you came back to yourself. What did you lose?"

"Honestly? Everything."

"So, how'd you get it back?"

I thought of the image I'd seen, right before my life flashed before my eyes. I'd seen Lasciel's sigil. I'd seen the presence of Lash in my mind. I shrugged. "Divine intervention?"

She shook her head again. "You're one lucky bastard, Dresden." She opened the door, then stopped again, as I was pulling on my shirt. "Harry? I know you're a relationship guy. No casual sex. So you should find yourself a nice, magic girl and settle down."

I rolled my eyes, and looked at my bedroom door. Then back at Murphy. "Not anytime soon."

She smirked, and was gone. I went over the last two days in my head. So many pairs. Wei and Lefty. Kincaid and Hai. Murphy and me, maybe… And Ivy and Thomas. Two people I wanted to save. Both in need of help, both in the mind and in the heart. I shook my head. It hurt, but not a lot. "Molly!"

The door opened and she and Mouse both poked their heads out. "Come on, Grasshopper. We have three stops to make. One, I need a Coke." I grabbed one out of the icebox. "Two, we have to go get the Beetle. Three, we're going to my office. It's time you learned some more tricks of the trade."

She smiled. Soon, she wouldn't be my responsibility anymore. Then I could focus on matters of the heart.


End file.
